


As Long As You Love Me Truly

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Molly Hooper wants to do is get her big break on the London stage. She might have a chance when she's asked to be the lead in one of the most anticipated productions on the West End, and by the star himself, Sherlock Holmes. But things don't exactly go according to the plan she had in her head of how she would become a well known actress, and as time goes on she needs to figure out whether she wants fame or whether she wants something more fulfilling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another AU, because I love writing these things. My mom actually gave me the idea a few weeks back when I was writing the inn AU to do one where Molly is a struggling actress who works a bunch of odd jobs and I sat on it and then chapter one bubbled forth yesterday and I figured, "Eh, why not?" I don't expect this one to be quite as long as the inn AU, but it will be lengthy, so I hope you all enjoy it. Title is taken from lyrics in "Wonderland" by Natalia Kills.

Molly Hooper was a busy woman. At any given point she was balancing as many as four or five odd jobs just trying to make ends meet. Her usual job was as a waitress at the restaurant her landlady and dear friend Mrs. Hudson ran, but she could have more jobs on top of it if things were really tight. She could have had a promising career in medicine, but that had been what her family wanted, not what she wanted. What she wanted was to act. It was rough at times, trying to make her way as an actress on the stage, but generally she was happy. Still, there were times she missed the amount of money she could have made as a doctor. This week was one of those weeks, where it felt like she had a million bills due and not enough money to cover everything.

“Hey, Molly! Made it big yet?” one of her favorite customers asked as she came over with his order, giving her a wide grin.

“Not yet, Paul,” she said with a grin of her own. “But I have an audition in about two hours. Rumor has it that Sherlock Holmes is supposed to be in this play.”

His eyes got wide. “What type of play is it?”

“A serious drama. There's not many parts, and if he's in it every woman who auditions is going to want the part of Angelica. I mean, you pull off a scene with him and you get noticed.”

“What's it about?” his dining companion asked, her gaze interested.

“There's a man who was penniless who made his way in the world, though not always by the best way, and he's courting a woman. She's not super young, but she's a bit naive. Anyway, she's interested in him, but her brother is suspicious. The brother tries everything he can to ruin the courtship and it almost costs his sister her life, but in the end the man proves himself, the sister accepts his proposal and they live happily ever after.” She paused. “I think. I only really skimmed through it.”

“Are you auditioning for the part of the sister?” she asked.

She shook her head. “I'm a long shot for the play at all. Going for the big part would just be stupid. I'm going for one of the smaller parts. I mean, even a small part will get me noticed, I hope.” She finished setting their food down. “I have to get ready soon to go. It's the biggest play I've auditioned for yet, so I'm trying to look my best.”

“Well, break a leg, Molly,” Paul said with a bigger grin.

“Yes. I hope you do well,” his friend said.

“Thank you both,” she said with a smile and a wave. She still had an hour until she'd be able to leave to get ready, and she wanted to get as much work done as she could. She already hated leaving Mrs. Hudson understaffed at the rush but the woman had told her to go audition and they'd be fine without her. She went back to the kitchen to get the next order and saw Mrs. Hudson there, getting it set up. Mrs. Hudson had been in an accident two weeks before and had a broken ankle to show for it. She was in a walking cast, but Molly imagined it had to hurt. “You should be relaxing after everything,” she said as she shook her head. “Not standing up all the time and working so hard.”

“Well, we're understaffed at the moment,” she replied. “If I want everyone to get their food I need to pitch in.”

Molly frowned. “Maybe I shouldn't go to the audition, then,” she said quietly.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Hudson said, giving her a smile. “I called Tabitha up to see if she could come in even if it's her day off and she'll be here in a half hour. Even if she's a little late I still want you to leave in an hour and go get ready. This could be your big break, after all.”

“I suppose,” Molly said slowly. She looked at the plates. “Are they done?”

“Ready for you to take to table five,” Mrs. Hudson replied with a nod, lifting up the plates. Molly took them and put them on her tray. She pasted on a smile and made her way back out to the dining area. Truth be told she didn't feel much like smiling. She was incredibly nervous for this audition because it was a high profile play. A lot of the things she had done in recent years had been smaller in scale, but if the rumors were true this would be a higher profile play with a huge spotlight on anyone in it. This really could be her big break.

She made her way through the rest of her hour and then she got her car and drove back home. She had some time to get ready, and she changed out of the white shirt and black slacks she wore at the restaurant into something nicer. Normally she didn't wear dresses to auditions but she figured that might be a safe enough bet in this case. She did her make-up with care and after a ten minutes of fussing decided to let her hair stay down after she ran a brush through it. By the time she took a final look at herself in the mirror she thought she looked presentable as a person. Now if only she felt at the top of her game as an actress everything would be perfect.

She got back into her car and drove to the theatre where the play was going to be performed. She found space to park in the back and then grabbed her copy of the script. She had memorized the part for Jessica, the best friend of Angelica, but it never hurt to have the script on hand just in case. She made her way into the building and looked around. There were at least thirty other women there, she realized as he heart sank, and most of them were at the very least prettier than her. She made her way to the seats and saw that there was a sign-up sheet. She added her name and then was directed to sit down. Now the wait was to begin.

Most of the women were decent, and some were spectacular. Molly could see the people watching the auditions taking notes, and the more women she saw the less she felt like she had a chance of getting any part, much less one with any decent lines. Slowly the room emptied out and it was just her and another woman left to audition. The woman got up on the stage and gave it her all, but even Molly knew it wasn't enough. After a moment she left the stage, and the man in charge looked at the paper. “Last one, thank God. Molly Hooper?”

Molly stood up and made her way to the stage. She stood front and center, looking out at the people there. There were two men there: one with graying hair and a suit and one with dark hair and a bored expression on his face. She thought she saw a third person in the back, but the seats were dark other than the first row where the men sat. The one who was bored looked at her. “What part are you auditioning for?”

“Jessica,” Molly said quietly.

He waved his hand at her. “Go ahead.”

Molly nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She started in on Jessica's big speech, her shining moment in the play, and then she glanced out towards the seats. There had been a man in the back, and he got up after a moment. Her heart sank as she thought she was driving him out of the room but she relaxed when she saw he was coming towards the front of the seats. At least, she relaxed until she saw who it was: Sherlock Holmes himself. Inside she panicked, but in the end she kept going even as he leaned over and talked to the man in the suit. When she was done she looked at the three men. “Am I finished?” she asked nervously.

“Can I have you read something else?” the man in the suit asked.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Do you have a copy of the script?” he asked.

“It's at my chair,” she said.

“I can bring it up on stage with me,” Sherlock said. “Where were you sitting?”

“Third row, on the left,” she said.

He nodded and went to the seat, looking for her script. He found it after a moment, and then made his way to the stage. He had a copy of the script as well, and he handed her hers. She took it from him, looking at him for a moment before turning back to the two men. “Sherlock asked to read with you,” the man in the suit said with a reassuring smile. “Start on page fifteen, with Angelica's lines.”

Molly blinked. “You want me to read for Angelica?” she asked.

The man nodded. “Yes. Start at the top, all right?”

Molly nodded and looked at the script, quickly skimming over the lines. Then she began to read, glancing up every so often to watch Sherlock and how he reacted. He responded to each of her lines, looking at her as he spoke. She got more confident the longer they went on, and by the time they got to the second page she was starting to move around a bit as the stage directions called for. Sherlock did the same, and this all went on for another page before this part of the scene ended. She had the last line and she delivered it, and then looked at Sherlock. He looked back at her intently for a moment before turning to the man in the suit. “I want her for Angelica,” he said quietly.

“But what about Irene?” the other man asked.

“She couldn't bother to show up for the audition,” Sherlock said with a shrug. “She shouldn't get a part in this play at all, but she certainly shouldn't get the lead. I think Ms. Hooper here had the best audition and she's best for the part.”

“But Greg,” the other man asked, turning to the man in the suit. “It's _Irene Adler_ we're talking about. She'll be a huge draw.”

Greg looked at him, quiet for a few moments. “Sherlock is a large enough draw on his own, Phillip,” he said when he finally spoke. “I mean, he's won an Olivier award and she hasn't. If you want her in the play you can have her, but Sherlock has a point. She didn't come to the audition, she shouldn't get the lead.” Then he turned to Sherlock. “Are you sure this is who you want to act against?”

He nodded. “I think she'd be the best for the part out of everyone who auditioned today. She's confident but not too confident, and she looks as though she would be the type of person to follow their heart regardless of what others thought. I think she would work out the best. Plus, as you just saw, we pair well off each other.”

“All right then,” Greg said with a nod. “Can you be here tomorrow at one forty-five, Ms. Hooper? We're auditioning the men tomorrow and I'd like to have you read against some of the men we have auditioning for Reginald.”

“Of course,” Molly said, slightly shocked. She was the lead? They wanted her to _star_ in the play? She was stunned. “I can be here. One forty-five is fine.”

“Great,” Greg said with a wide smile. “Then I'll see you here tomorrow.” He stood up, as did Phillip, and they made their way to the stage and then back behind it, leaving Sherlock and Molly alone.

“I think it will be interesting to work together,” Sherlock said after a moment, snapping Molly out of her surprise. “You seem to be quite talented.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing slightly. “You couldn't have possibly gotten that from the little bit I read as Jessica, though.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I've seen you in a few other plays before,” he said. “I thought you had talent then. I made it a point to make sure that you heard about the audition.”

She turned to him, eyes wide. “Wait. You _wanted_ me here today?”

He nodded. “I'm one of the producers of this play. It is a passion project, I suppose. It's a play I've liked since I was in university. And I had hoped if you auditioned I would have the chance to see you in action as Angelica. I will say, I was not disappointed.” He gave her a small smile. “Are you busy right now?”

“No. Well, I mean, I want to go tell my boss that I got the part so she knows I won't be working for a while, but other than that I'm free. Why?”

“I thought it might be nice to get to know each other a bit,” he said. “After all, we're going to be working together for quite a while. And it is a part where we have to be in a romantic relationship.”

She nodded slowly. “All right. I suppose we can go out and get coffee or tea or something.”

“Good.” He appeared to relax slightly, and with that the two of them made their way back to her seat. “Did you drive here?” he asked after she had gotten her purse. She nodded in response. “There's a coffee shop a few blocks away. I don't think Lestrade will mind if you keep your car here a little longer.”

“Lestrade?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Greg Lestrade. He owns this theatre, and he's the other producer of the play. Phillip Anderson is the director. Not the man I would have chosen for the job, as we don't always get along, but he is talented, I suppose. Just don't tell him I said that.”

She gave him a grin. “I won't.” They made their way out of the building. It was a bit chillier than she had expected, and she was regretting wearing a dress now. She moved her purse up to her shoulder and rubbed her arms slightly. “I hadn't expected it to get cold.”

He looked at her for a moment. “Your vehicle is in the back, correct?”

“Yes,” she said. “”Why?”

“Do you have a jumper there? Or a coat?”

She thought for a moment. She had cleaned it out a few days ago so she wasn't sure. “I might, but I don't remember.”

“I have an idea.” He nodded back towards the building and they went back inside. They made their way to the stage and then went backstage. Sherlock led her down the hallway to a room and opened the door. “I don't think Lestrade will mind either of us borrowing a coat from the wardrobe room, as long as we bring them back tomorrow.”

“That was a very good idea,” she said as she stepped inside the room. He followed her and they looked at the racks of clothes. “Are any of these for the current play?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No, these are from the last play. There were a lot of scenes that were supposed to be outside in the fall and winter, so there should be coats heavy or light enough for your taste. I had not expected there to be so many women auditioning today or else I would have brought my own coat.”

She fingered a few of the pieces of clothing, then pulled out a greatcoat. “This looks like this would fit you well.”

“It looks a lot like my own coat,” he said, taking it from her. He took it off the hanger and slipped it on. “It's a good fit. This will suffice.”

“I should find something for me, then,” she said, turning back to the clothes. She moved down the line until she saw the perfect coat. It was a black leather coat that went down to her hips that buttoned up in the front and was slightly tucked in at the waist that was lined with a thin layer of fleece. She pulled it off the hanger and put it on. It was a perfect fit. “I wish I had a coat this nice of my own,” she said with a smile.

“You don't have a nice coat?” he asked.

“I barely make enough money to survive, let alone buy nice clothes,” she said. “Something like this would be a luxury.”

He studied it for a moment as she buttoned it up. “Perhaps Lestrade might be inclined to let you keep it, if I ask him or offer to replace it.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes wide. “But that's too much. I mean, you don't have to.”

“It's all right,” he said with a shrug. “It's only going to get colder the more time we put into this play. You should have a warm coat for the start of it, at least.” 

“If you're sure,” she said slowly.

“I am,” he replied with a nod. “If you need to deliver the good news to your boss we should leave soon. I don't want to keep you out all night.”

“That would be the first time that's happened in years,” she said with a smile. “I don't have much of a social life. Too busy working odd jobs or waitressing or acting in plays.”

“It's been a long time since I've had to do any of that,” he mused as they left the wardrobe room. They made their way back to the stage. “I used to work as a waiter as a restaurant, years ago. For my landlord, actually.”

“What restaurant?” she asked as they headed back towards the doors.

“Simone's,” he said.

She stopped dead in her tracks. “Mrs. Hudson's restaurant?”

“Yes,” he said with a slow nod.

“That's where I work,” she said. “I've worked there off and on for the last four years.”

He chuckled slightly. “She might have mentioned you worked there the last time I spoke with her.”

“Are you stalking me?” she asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“No, I'm not, I swear. But she has a lot of actors in her employ, and I had hoped you might be one of them. She told me you were and she told me she would guarantee you were at this audition today.”

“So that's why she insisted,” Molly said, shaking her head. “We were understaffed today but she told me to come here. She told me it might be my big break.”

“I may have told her if you came I wanted to see about making you the lead,” he said. “I do hope you're not put off.”

“A little, if I'm being honest. But a larger part of me is rather...flattered, I suppose,” she said, beginning to head towards the doors again. He walked in step beside her. “I don't think I've ever had anyone take that much of an interest in me professionally before.”

He nodded. “I appreciate good talent. A few of the plays you were in rightfully deserved their bad reviews, either for lazy acting or bad direction, but you did well in everything I had the chance to see you in. You just had unfortunate luck picking the productions, I think.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said with a sigh. “I just tend to have bad luck in everything, really.”

“Hopefully that will change with this production,” he said as they got to the doors. They stepped outside and she found she was much warmer with the coat on. He turned to the left and they began to walk. They kept up an easy conversation as they walked, not getting into anything too personal but she still realized she was learning quite a bit about him. They made it to the coffee shop and placed their orders, and he insisted he pay for them, which she appreciated. After about ten minutes they received their coffees and they sat down at a table across from each other. “I suppose there's a lot to talk about,” he said after he took a sip.

“Probably,” she said with a smile. “I've heard a lot about you, but I don't know what's fact and what's fiction.”

“Well, you can always ask me. I'll answer truthfully,” he said with a slight grin of his own.

“Did you really start acting when you were a child?”

“Yes, when I was five. I did television adverts at that age. I took a break when I was in my early teens because I had spent most of my life doing small parts and constantly working, and then when I went to university I decided I wanted to focus on acting on the stage. I find I much prefer that as opposed to television work.”

“Do you really live in a penthouse apartment overlooking the heart of London?” she asked before she took a sip of her coffee.

“Actually, I still live near Mrs. Hudson,” he said with a slight chuckle. “I grew to like that neighborhood a lot when I was living at her home. And most people tend to leave me alone when I'm there. It's as though they know I'm well known but it makes no difference to them. I suppose if I was in television or movies that wouldn't be as much of an option, but since I'm a stage actor I get less notice.”

“Even though you're considered one of the best younger actors on the stage right now,” she said.

“Yes even so.” He had another sip of his coffee. “One day I might like to go to New York, see what I can do there. But for now I am happy here in London.”

“I can't imagine trying to make it on Broadway,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, it's hard enough here. There it would be murder.” She had more of her coffee. “Possibly literally. Actors can be ruthless.”

“Yes, they can be,” he said with a nod. Then he sobered slightly. “I suppose you've heard the rumors regarding myself and Irene Adler.”

She felt herself get a little warm. “The ones where she bedded you?”

“There's no truth to them,” he said. “But she does want them to be true. She's got Anderson wrapped around her finger so she's going to have a part in this play whether I like it or not. Even Lestrade can't deny having two big name actors in the same production will draw a lot of crowds and sell a lot of tickets. But she wants the lead, and she'll try and make you regret agreeing to take the part. I'm fairly sure she'll find a way to get made your understudy. If she can convince you to give up the part she'll get her wish. Or at least one of them.”

“Great,” she said, sighing. “That's just what I needed.”

“I will do my best to convince her to refrain from that behaviour,” he said quietly. “I will try and get her to leave you alone. Just remember that I wanted you for this part, not her. You'll have at least one person in your corner.”

“I'll remember that,” she said with a nod. She looked at him. “Am I going to regret this, by the end of it all?”

“I hope not,” he said. “It would be a shame to have you look back upon this experience with distaste when it's all over.”

“I wish I could get a promise from someone about it,” she said quietly.

“I can't do that, but I can make you a deal,” he said after a moment's thought.

“What type of deal?” she asked curiously.

“If you find for whatever reason you can't do this play, that it's something that just isn't going to work, then I will do my best to get you a lead in another production, one that Irene will have no part in. I have some pull with a few producers and I can use it to my advantage.”

She thought about it for a few moments. This was a very good deal, she realized. She nodded after a moment and held out her hand to him. “It's a deal.”

He grinned a bit and shook her hand. “Very well then. Now, why don't we move onto another topic? I find there's a lot I would like to learn about you.”

“All right,” she said with a smile as she let go of his hand. He started to ask her questions and she answered them, and then he started to tell her about himself, and while she was having quite an enjoyable time she still had a niggling worry in the back of her head. She really truly hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake by agreeing to be in this production.


	2. Chapter 2

Molly arrived at the theatre a full half hour early. She was nervous, worried that everyone involved would change their minds and not only would she not be the lead she wouldn't have a part at all. She parked in the back again and smoothed down her dress after she got out of her vehicle. After she had had coffee with Sherlock she had gone and taken some of the money she had stashed for emergencies and bought something nice to wear. Once rehearsals started she could arrive in T-shirts and denim trousers, but for now she wanted to impress the people who had hired her, and that included Sherlock.

He was actually quite fascinating, she had thought as they had spent more time together the evening before. Everything she had read in interviews had been true, but it had also been off. There was a sense about him that he was quite serious and very focused on his trade, but that there was a whole other side to him that he didn't talk about very much. She liked to think he had talked about it a bit with her, but even she knew there was still a lot she didn't know about him. She had wondered for a bit after they parted ways what had made her so special, but then she would think she was just reading too much into it. He was probably only trying to get to know her to make the production go easier, she had decided in the end.

She went to the entrance and found it was unlocked. Already there was a crowd of men there, more men than there had been women the day prior. If Angelica was a huge part, so was Reginald. She knew whoever played her brother in this play was going to have just as big a spotlight shone on them as she was having shone on her. She looked around and saw Sherlock and Greg talking quietly near the stage. She took a deep breath and made her way to the stage. Greg had his back to her but the minute Sherlock saw her he stopped talking to him and gave her a smile. “Molly,” he said with a nod.

Greg turned around and gave her a smile. “You're early. I like that in people who are in my productions.”

She smiled at them, feeling a bit more at ease. “Well, it never hurts to show up early for something like this, though I'll admit this is my first time with this huge of a part.”

“I need to go find out where Phillip went to,” Greg said. “Probably out front having a bit of a smoke. Whenever I get him in here we can start and just take people in as they come until we would have started.”

Sherlock nodded. “That sounds like a good plan to me.”

“I'll be back shortly, hopefully.” Greg gave them both another grin and moved towards the stairs leading to the back of the seats.

“I'm a bit nervous,” Molly said with a grin towards Sherlock. “I don't want to muck it all up and cost myself this part.”

“You'll be fine,” he said. She shrugged out of the coat she had gotten the day before and draped it over her arm as he looked over at the seats in front, nodding to them. “I remembered how you took our coffee and got one for you. I think we're in for a long afternoon.”

“You didn't have to do that,” she said, slightly wide-eyed.

“I'm usually not this nice,” he said with a shrug. “I find with you I want to make an exception.”

“Why?” she asked as they moved towards the seats in the front row.

He was quiet for a moment as they got to the seats. There was a cup each in front of two chairs on the floor, and Sherlock picked one up and then sat down in the seat behind it. She did the same after draping her jacket on the back of her seat and placing her purse on the seat next to her. “You intrigue me, I suppose,” he said after a moment. “Mrs. Hudson is still one of the few people I'm close to, and she would talk about you. She's very fond of you. So I started trying to see the productions you were in, but I wasn't quite sure how to approach you. I don't have many friends, and I generally don't make many friends when I'm in the middle of a play because I get so focused. And I've had so many things going on that I've been preoccupied lately. So the timing was off until yesterday.”

“I'm more flattered than put off,” she said with a chuckle. “No one's ever told me I'm intriguing before. No one's really been interested in me, come to think of it. It's rather nice.”

“Well, I was impressed by your talent and what Mrs. Hudson said about you. You seemed to be someone who would make a good friend, if I didn't make a hash of it in the first place.”

“I suppose we can try and be friends, if you would like,” she said as she gave him a wide grin. “I don't have many of those myself.”

“I'm glad you want to try,” he said, giving her another grin. It looked quite nice on his face, even though she got the feeling he didn't wear them often. Then he turned to look behind him at the men waiting to audition, and after a minute his smile got wider. “He showed up. Good.”

“Who did?” she asked, turning to look.

“One of the few friends I do have,” he said. He pointed to a blonde man three rows behind them and to the left. “I had told him it would be good if he auditioned today. I'm just glad he was able to make it.” He moved his arm slightly. “John!” he called over.

The man's head snapped up, and after a moment he saw Sherlock motioning for him to come over. He got up out of his seat and bounded down the stairs, grin on his face. “It's a good thing my business in New York finished this week,” he said with a grin.

“Yes, it is,” Sherlock said. “John Watson, this is Molly Hooper. She's going to be Angelica in this production.”

“Really? Pleasure to meet you,” he said with a grin, stretching out his hand towards her. She switched her hand holding her coffee and shook it. Then he turned to Sherlock. “She's the one you wanted all along, right?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. Now I just hope the two of you have chemistry.”

“Are you auditioning for Reginald?” she asked as she let go of his hand.

John nodded. “I'll take any part they give me, but I'd prefer to be Reginald. Meatier part, and I get to work more with Sherlock. Been a while since we've done that. But my attempt to make it big on Broadway flopped so any work would be wonderful.” He nodded to the seat to her left. “May I?”

“Of course,” she said, lifting her purse up out of the chair. She set it on the ground at her feet. “What were you trying to do on Broadway?”

“I'm mostly a comedic actor. I was trying my hand at something different, but here I'm so typecast that I don't get a fair shot,” he said as he sat down. “So I figured Broadway could be the place to break out of my comfort zone. I've been there the last seven months, doing bit parts in a few productions. They were all serious dramas, so I got comfortable doing it. But I wasn't making my name there. Sherlock told me about this production and how he was one of the producers and how I should give it a shot, so I finished up my business there and caught the first flight back.”

“Well, that's good,” Sherlock said.

“Not all of it. My landlord let some hooligans rent a part of the house and they destroyed my things. And I'm too broke to replace anything. Literally all I have are the things I took with me to New York.”

“Oh no!” Molly said, her eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”

“Find a new place to live, first off,” he said as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Then hope I can get enough gigs to replace everything I can replace.”

Sherlock thought for a moment and then looked at Molly. “Do you know if Mrs. Hudson is renting any rooms?”

“It's only her and I and one other person right now,” she said after a moment's thought. “And I think the other tenant is leaving by the end of the week.”

“Then you should talk to her,” Sherlock said as he looked over to John. “She'd be glad to have you back.”

“Oh, I bet she would,” he said with a grin. “She always did like me more than you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Sherlock said, though he had a small grin on his face. 

“You two lived there at the same time?” Molly asked, looking from one man to the other.

John nodded. “For two years. It's why we're such good friends, I think. I left when I moved in with my girlfriend a few years back. Not exactly my smartest decision. When we broke up I found myself without a place to live, and Mrs. Hudson's rooms were all rented out. I ended up living where I'm at now but it's a dodgy place. I probably should have just sent everything to New York with me.”

“I'm sorry that that happened to you,” Molly said.

“Well, I took the important things. Most of what was left was my furniture and a few other things,” he said with a shrug. “Nothing irreplaceable was damaged.”

“I can help you replace a few things,” Sherlock said, pulling out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts for a minute. “Call Mrs. Hudson and see if she has a place for you, and then I'll see about getting you things you need.” He offered John his phone. “Call her on my phone. She'll probably answer if it's coming from my number.”

“All right,” John said with a nod. He took Sherlock's phone and stood up, pressing send as he moved away from them.

Molly took a sip of her coffee. “He's quite nice,” she said, turning to Sherlock.

“He's one of the best men I know,” Sherlock said with a nod, watching him for a moment before turning back to her. “I should have insisted on taking his things to storage and paying for it for him.”

“Well, neither of you know those wankers would do that,” she said with a smile. “But you're being nice and helping to replace them. I think you're nicer than you think you are.”

He shook his head. “Only with a select few. I do not think you will ever see me be particularly nice to Anderson or Irene, and probably not to the rest of the cast. I'll get accused of favoritism towards you and John if he gets a part, but I think we can all weather that.”

“I hope I can,” she said, her smile dimming a bit.

“I'll try to not be overt about it,” he said quietly. “I don't want to cause you hardship.”

“I know. You really want me to stay in this play.”

“I do,” he said as he nodded. “We have a deal, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she said.

He took a sip of his coffee and leaned back slightly. “Do you have plans tonight?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing I can't put off until tomorrow morning. Why?”

“I was thinking we could share a meal tonight,” he said. “If you would like, perhaps John could join us as well.”

“Only if he wants to,” she said with a smile. She would like to have more time alone with Sherlock, but John was quite nice as well, she thought to herself. It would be nice to have two new friends by the time she was done with this production. “But yes, dinner sounds nice.”

“Good,” he said, and she could see him relax slightly. She wondered why he had thought she might say no, but she didn't say anything. “I'll ask him when he returns my phone.”

“All right.” She had another sip of her coffee and looked around. More men had come into the theatre while they had been chatting, and she got the feeling she was in for a long afternoon. A few minutes later John came back with Sherlock's phone, and the two of them chatted for a moment before Greg and Phillip came into the room. “I think we're starting now,” she said, leaning over towards Sherlock.

“I think we are too,” he said with a nod as Greg made his way up to the stage. Sherlock gave her a small smile before he turned his attention to Greg, who was talking to the men auditioning. She turned her attention to that as well, and when he motioned for her and Sherlock to come up on stage they did. He talked for a few more minutes before beginning to call the men up. Some of them auditioned with just Sherlock, but more of them were auditioning for the role of Reginald than anything else so they did a short scene with both of them. There were a few auditioning for the role of Thomas, Angelica's ex-paramour who almost gets her killed through Reginald's plotting, and she read exclusively with them. The men who auditioned for that role came off as well meaning but a tad reckless, and there was one man she thought did quite well, a man named Henry There were a few other men she really liked, and a few she quite hoped didn't get a part. One of them leered at her the entire time they were auditioning, and she could see Sherlock was not amused. She got the feeling that man would have absolutely no part in this production.

Finally the last man had auditioned four hours later. Molly had seen John leave after he was done, but she hadn't had time to ask Sherlock if he was joining them for supper. The two of them went back to their seats and Molly sat down, taking a sip of her now cold coffee. She made a face that Sherlock caught, chuckling slightly. “Cold coffee tastes horrible unless it's cold to begin with,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

“I suppose I should meet you outside,” she said. “I'm sure the three of you have things to talk about.”

“Actually, I would love to have your input,” Greg said as she stood up. “You're going to be working with two of these men very closely in the production. You must have some preferences.”

“Are you sure?” Phillip asked. “I mean, she doesn't have any say in things like the rest of us.”

“Actually, I really like that idea,” Sherlock said. “She just spent the last four hours on stage with these men. She has a better idea of who she can work with and who she can't.”

Phillip opened his mouth to say something else, but Sherlock glared at him. After a moment he closed his mouth and sighed. “Fine,” he said. “We can listen to her input.”

Molly sat back down. “Where should we start?”

“We'll go down the list,” Greg said. He looked at the sheets of paper he had with his notes and the four of them began to talk about things. By the time they were finished it had been agreed that John would have the part of Reginald, which made Molly happy, and Henry got the role of Thomas. She found she was getting even more excited for the rehearsals to start. Soon they were all standing up, gathering their things. Molly slipped the jacket on and turned, seeing Greg grinning at her. “That jacket looks quite good on you.”

“I'm only borrowing it,” she said, blushing.

He shook his head. “Go ahead and keep it. A few of the pieces of wardrobe were vintage and a little damaged, and that's one of the pieces. There's a small tear in the seam in the back. That's why we ended up not using it. We could have fixed it, but our wardrobe person hates dealing with leather. All it was going to do was gather dust in the back. And besides, Sherlock already said he'd reimburse me if I needed it.”

“He didn't need to do that,” she said, shaking her head.

Greg leaned in. “And I'm not making him,” he said with a slight chuckle. She smiled back at him. “He quite likes you, you know. I've produced a few of his plays and I don't think I've actually seen him be nice to someone else he's working with. He's a good actor, but he has a reputation for wanting perfection, and he's a bit aloof. But I think with you he'll lower his guard. Now we just need to see if he does it with the rest of the cast.” He picked up his own coat. “Rehearsals start next week at nine. Dress in something comfortable, all right?”

She nodded. “I will. Thank you once again, for the part. And the jacket.”

“Think nothing of it.” He slipped his coat on, and after a moment he and Phillip left.

Sherlock looked over at her. He had his own coat on, and she could see it was different from the one he had borrowed from the wardrobe department the day before. It was certainly better quality, and it looked thicker. “Are you ready to eat?” he asked.

She nodded. “I'm starved right now. Is John joining us?”

He shook his head. “Mrs. Hudson said your other tenant left quite suddenly. It appears he had been doing things of an illegal nature, and he's on the run. She asked him if he wanted to help clear out the room and stay there tonight. I'll get him new furniture tomorrow, but at least he has a better place to call home now.”

Her eyes were wide. “I knew the man was dodgy, but I didn't know it was _that_ bad.”

“There's a lot more to people than meets the eye,” he said as they made their way to the exit in the back. “Do you have your car with you?”

She nodded. “Do you drive?”

“Not if I can help it,” he said. “Usually I take cabs everywhere. It costs more money, but I don't mind.” He looked over at her. “We can drive to the restaurant, if you want to. It's an Italian place where I know the owner.”

“You know a lot of people,” she said with a smile.

“I suppose I do,” he said after a moment's thought. “If you don't mind driving we can take your car there. I can give you directions.”

“All right.” They left the building and made their way to her car. She unlocked her door and then unlocked the passenger side. He got in and she put her key in the ignition and tried to turn the car on. Nothing happened. “Oh no,” she said, shutting her eyes. “This can't possibly be happening.”

“Does it do this often?” he asked.

She nodded. “I'd be better off just getting rid of this thing, to be honest. It costs more in upkeep and petrol than it's worth.” She hung her head slightly. “I have no idea how I'm going to get anywhere now.”

“Well, once rehearsals start we could share a cab to and from the theatre. I don't live that far away from you,” he said.

“I've wondered why I don't see you in the neighborhood,” she asked, turning to look at him.

“Even though I have anonymity there I don't go out very often,” he said. He opened the door. “Is there anyone you should call about this?”

“A tow service, I suppose. And I should get my things out of here and take them home. I suppose we'll have to take a rain check on dinner.”

“I can help,” he said. “Having two people take things will make it easier. And then we can go afterward.”

“You really want to have dinner with me, don't you?” she asked with an amused smile.

“Yes, I do,” he said quietly as he nodded.

She looked at him for a moment. “All right. Do you think Greg would mind if I kept the car here overnight? That way we can just get a cab and take these things to my home. I mean, I'll promise him it won't be here in the morning.”

“I don't see him having a problem with it. I can call and ask him.”

“I'd appreciate it,” she said with a smile.

He got out of the car and pulled out his phone as she got out of her side and opened the back door. She began to gather her things as she thought about the conversation they'd just had. She wasn't sure what to think about that, the fact he actually wanted to have this meal with her badly enough to help her cart her things home and possibly wait around for a tow truck and all of it. She was surprised, obviously, but inside she was also quite pleased. If she wasn't careful she'd start to think maybe he fancied her, and while that would be very nice and very flattering it could also be very problematic. She would have to be careful to rein in the attraction she was starting to feel towards him, because if she wasn't careful it could all become a huge mess and end very badly for her, and she didn't want that at all.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning after her car died she went to her emergency stash of money and she found she had just enough to cover cab fare for a few days to get around London and do what she needed to do before rehearsals started. If she just sold her car to someone for parts and scrap she could have a little bit extra, just in case, so she made the decision to sell her car. It would be hard not to have it, but really, in the end she would be better off. Maybe if she was lucky this role would be the start of a flourishing career and she could afford another one, or at least not have to worry about cab fare any time soon. She used some of the money to get to the theatre and arrange for it to be towed away and sold off.

That day she decided to go back to some of her odd jobs. There were a few things she could do for some quick cash, even though she would much prefer to spend her time studying her script and getting more familiar with it. She pulled out her mobile and began making calls, and within two hours she was back in her neighborhood, walking six dogs on their leashes. She wasn't exactly fond of the dog walking job, but if she did it for a few days a week with all six dogs she could get quite a bit of money, especially if she did it twice. Rehearsals were only supposed to go until two every day, so if she woke up at seven to collect the dogs in the morning and then went back at four for an afternoon walk she could earn enough to get her through until she got her first paycheque.

It was four days later and she was out with the dogs when she got close to her home again. She looked up and saw a now familiar man coming up towards it. Sherlock could be there to see her or he could be there to see John, she thought to herself. Even when he was coming to visit John they always ended up spending time together, usually away from her home. She wouldn't be sure who he was there to see today until she talked to him. “Sherlock!” she called over. As if the dogs could sense her excitement they all pulled on their leashes at once and she got pulled quickly along the sidewalk until the dogs got to him. One of them put their front paws on him and her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God, I'm so sorry.”

“It's all right,” he said, looking down at the dog, who looked up at him. After a moment he reached down and scratched the dog behind its ears. Molly relaxed slightly. “So. Dog walker?”

“One of the many odd jobs I've got,” she said with a smile as the dogs began to inspect him. Apparently they all liked him as they began to bark animatedly. “I'm trying to make sure I've got enough cab fare for the things I need to do this week before I receive my first paycheque.”

“The car was a total loss, I take it?” he asked.

She nodded. “I didn't even need to take it to a mechanic. It would cost more to fix than I've got on hand, and I have bills due. As it stands I'll be pulling a few more shifts at Simone's and doing one or two other odd jobs. Every little bit helps.”

“Yes, I suppose it does,” he said with a nod. “I had come to check on John and then see if you were free for the day, but I take it you aren't.”

“Well, I don't have plans today, except visiting my agent and walking all of these dogs later in the afternoon. Mrs. Hudson doesn't need me today and I can't do anything about the other odd jobs I work.” She started to say more but then the dogs got very excited all of a sudden and pulled her forward. They ended up pulling Molly flush against Sherlock before they began circling the two of them, making sure they stayed close. “I am so so sorry,” she said, blushing profusely.

“I don't know,” he said with an amused grin. “It's been a while since I've been this close to an attractive woman.”

She blushed even more, if that was at all possible. “Still. I'm really sorry.”

“Well, it could be worse. I could be flat on my back right now,” he mused. “Why don't we try and untangle ourselves and then I can help you with them? Six at once seems to be asking for trouble.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, acutely aware of just how close they were at the moment.

He nodded. “I'm sure.” Then he looked down. “Now we just need to figure out how to get out of this predicament.”

“Maybe if I hand you three of the leashes we can try and get them untangled that way,” she said after a moment.

“Well, since each leash is a different color we should easily be able to tell which dog is which,” he said, extending his hand. “Try and give me the three biggest dogs.”

“All right.” She looked down at the dogs and saw what dog had what leash before handing Sherlock three of the leash handles. It took them nearly twenty minutes, but finally they were no longer pressed close together, surrounded by dogs. She looked over at him. “I think I need to start giving them treats to get them to do what I want,” she said.

“I may give them all treats for giving me an interesting morning,” he said with a grin.

She returned his grin and added a chuckle. “Glad to help.”

“What are their names, anyway?” he asked as they began to move forward, away from her home.

“The three you have are Samson, Little Abner and Emilie.”

“Which one is which?” he asked.

“Samson is the golden retriever, Emilie is the chocolate Labrador and Little Abner is the large mutt,” she said. “I don't think his owners expected him to get so big when they named him.”

“No, I don't think so either. What are the names of the dogs you have?”

“Nolan, Herbert and Delilah. Nolan is the bloodhound, Herbert is the cocker spaniel and Delilah is the springer spaniel. Samson and Delilah come from the same home. The rest all belong to different owners.”

“I thought as much, with the similar names,” he replied. They walked farther down the street in companionable silence before he spoke again. “I have to admit, these dogs are quite well behaved, other than pulling at you earlier.”

“They must really like you,” she said with a smile. “Normally they're a headache and a half. I only do this job occasionally for just that reason.”

“This doesn't seem like it would be a bad job,” he said. “Are you planning on doing it after we start rehearsals?”

She nodded. “I can walk the dogs from seven to eight and still have time to get ready, and since we're out at two I can do it again at four. Twice in a day should suffice.”

“If you ever want any more help I think I'd be willing to join you,” he said.

“It's all right,” she said. “I mean, you don't have to help me. It's my job.”

“Still. I don't mind.”

She was quiet for a minute. “I get the feeling you treat me differently than you treat other people,” she said. “I'm wondering what makes me so special.”

He was quiet for a longer amount of time than she had been. “I said before that you intrigue me. I think it's because you seem to be genuinely nice. You don't have a hidden agenda. Too many people I've chosen to get close to have used me in one way or another. Mrs. Hudson said I should try and make more friends, ones who wouldn't hurt me in the end, and then she spoke about you. She spoke very highly of you, actually, and I decided that if I got the chance I would try and get to know you. And the more I get to know you the more I find I like you.”

“Well, you're supposed to like your friends,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “And I think we're starting to be friends.”

“Yes, I suppose we are,” he said thoughtfully. He looked over at her. “If I asked you out on a date, what would you do?”

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked at him, wide eyed and slack jawed. Was he trying to tell her he fancied her? Did he honest to God want to attempt to _date_ her? Part of her was wondering what was wrong with him for being attracted to plain old mousy Molly Hooper. No man showed her any interest, and if they did generally they wanted something from her. She didn't want to think badly of Sherlock or worry that he was only using her, but the main thought running through her head was the main reason she should say no. “It's completely unprofessional,” she said quietly.

“Then I suppose I won't,” he said with a sigh. He looked very disappointed at her answer, and that surprised her.

She didn't move even though the dogs started pulling again, lost in thought for a moment. The thoughts in her head be damned, she decided after some deliberation. Screw everything that could possibly go wrong. If he wanted to date her maybe it wouldn't hurt. She was certainly attracted to him. If he liked her maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. She wouldn't know until she actually attempted to date him, right? “But I would love to anyway,” she said tentatively.

This time the surprised look was on his face, and she was almost sure he had given himself whiplash with the speed he turned to look at her. “So if I ask you out on an actual date you would say yes?”

“Yes, I would say yes,” she said with a warm smile. “I quite like you.”

A slow grin spread on his face. “Molly Hooper, will you go on a date with me?”

“I would love to,” she said with a nod.

“Give me a day to plan it. I would like to impress you. Do you have a nice dress?”

“Define 'nice,'” she said tentatively.

He was quiet. “I think if I have to define it the answer is probably no,” he said after a pause.

Hopefully this wasn't going to be a problem, she thought to herself. “I can borrow something, maybe. There has to be at least one friend of mine close to my size who has something that I could wear on a date.”

“Perhaps I can save this idea for later,” he mused after a moment. “If I'm lucky enough to get more than one date.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure you will,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “But we could get dinner somewhere and go see a film, maybe? I don't really need to be impressed. You've already done that.” They started to move again. “Are you sure you want to go out with me, though? I mean...”

“I want to,” he said. “Do you really think that lowly of yourself?”

“The last three boyfriends I've had, if you could even consider them that, all dumped me fairly quickly into our relationships for a variety of reasons. As it stands, I haven't been out on a date in two years. I didn't really miss it all that much,” she said with a slight shrug.

“That's better than I've fared,” he said. “I was actually engaged at one point, years back. My fiancée was involved with my best friend at the time.”

Her eyes got wide. “I am so sorry,” she said.

“It's all right. They're in a completely miserable marriage now, from what I've heard. They're both in the middle of affairs. If I had married her I would have been the cuckolded one.” They began to move again and he was quiet for a moment. “I stopped dating at that point and devoted my time and energy to my career. I did it with a singular determination that left little room in my life for much else.”

“How long ago was this?” she asked.

“Twelve years ago.”

“That makes my two years look relatively recent,” she said thoughtfully.

“Well, I suppose we'll both have to adjust,” he said with a grin towards her.

“I suppose so,” she said, grinning in return. “I'm actually quite flattered that you'd even consider dating me. I don't think I'm all that special, to be honest. I suppose I don't think highly of myself.”

“You should,” he said. “The more time I spent talking to you the last few days the more I realized I wanted to go out on an actual date with you. I know I kept you out quite late the last time we spent time together.”

“Yeah, we did stay out rather late, didn't we?” she said, tilting her head slightly. “I had thought about bringing up how it actually felt like a date but I thought that would be too forward of me.”

“I suppose in my own head I've been considering them dates,” he admitted. “At least the ones since dinner after the auditions.”

“Aren't you supposed to ask someone out properly first?” she teased.

“Twelve years of not dating,” he pointed out.

“All right, I'll give you that one,” she said with a laugh. “But really. As long as we do something fun I'll consider that a good date, and you'll guarantee yourself a second one.”

“I can do something fun,” he said with a nod. “At least, I hope I can.”

“We could go out tonight,” she said. “Unless you want to help me with the dogs again this afternoon, then we can go after that.”

“I wouldn't mind. I need to take care of a few things with John this afternoon but I can meet you back at your home at three?”

“Okay then,” she said with a nod. “Then it's a date. I mean, an actual date. I mean...” She trailed off as he chuckled. “I guess you get what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. I'll try and figure out something for us to do tonight that won't involve you getting very dressed up.”

“All right,” she said with a wide smile on her face. He began to change the subject and they talked easily, just like they had every other time, and soon it was time to return the dogs to their homes. After the last dog had been dropped off they made their way back to her home and he went to go collect John. She went inside to get her money and then left moments later, hailing a cab outside her home. She got in and told the driver the address, and forty minutes later she was there. She got out and went up to the building, going in the doors and making her way up to her agent's office. Sally Donovan had been one of the first people to take notice of her when Molly had first looked into getting into acting. Molly had been a fresh new face and Sally had wanted to make a name for herself as an agent, but the two had quickly become very good friends on top of it all. She knocked on the door and then spoke. “Sally? It's Molly.”

“Come in!” Sally called from the other side of the door. Molly opened the door and saw Sally sitting at her desk, a stack of papers in front of her face. After a moment Sally shifted a few things around and pushed them out of her way so she could see Molly clearly. “Congratulations on getting the lead,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks,” Molly said with a smile of her own, sitting across from her. “I'm honestly still surprised.”

“I'm not. You're quite talented. Someone was bound to notice eventually.” She leaned back in her seat. “I heard a rumor about all of it, that the whole reason the time and date for the audition crossed my desk was because a certain actor in the production wanted you in it. True or false?”

“Would that actor be Sherlock Holmes?” Molly asked. Sally nodded. “Then that would be true.”

Sally's smile widened. “Well, that's very good news for you. I mean, he's only the biggest name in the West End right now, fresh off getting that award. If he wanted you that badly then that can only mean good things. Maybe it won't be a flop like the other plays were.”

“Hopefully,” Molly said.

“So why are you here right now, anyway? I mean, not that I'm not glad you came by, since we're friends and all, but you probably could have called me.”

Molly leaned forward slightly. “What do you know about Irene Adler?” she asked.

Sally thought for a moment before leaning forward again. “She has a reputation for sleeping with leading men. Rumor has it she's slept with yours. And if not the leading men than the director. She also has a habit of getting the choicest parts in productions without having to audition. Part of it might be shagging the right men, but she's a good actress so it could be that. Why?”

“Because she wanted the lead part in this play, and I'm worried she might be a problem for me. She's going to have a part in it because the director is insisting, but I'm worried she might do something to ruin this all for me. Especially now.”

“What aren't you telling me, Molly?” Sally asked.

“Sherlock Holmes may have asked me out on a date today?” she said, looking a bit embarrassed.

Sally's eyes widened. “So he'll have his ex and you in the same play?”

“They've never been together. She wants that to happen, but it hasn't yet. And I don't think it ever will, even if whatever it is he wants with me falls apart. He really doesn't seem to like her.”

“Well, that's interesting,” Sally said thoughtfully. Then she looked at Molly intently. “Are you sure dating him is a good idea? I mean, if you two have a falling out it could be disastrous for your career. And as your friend, I don't want to see you hurt, professionally or personally.”

“I know,” Molly said with a sigh. “But I really like him, Sally. He treats me quite well, which I get the feeling is unusual for him. And it's been a really long time since anyone's admitted they fancied me.”

Sally was quiet for a moment. “As your agent I should tell you to back out of your date, to tell him you only want a professional relationship with him until the production is over, and if he still feels the same way once it's all over than you'll reconsider.”

“And as my friend?” Molly asked uncertainly.

“I have a very sexy little black dress you can borrow which will knock his socks off,” Sally said with a grin.

Molly relaxed at that. “Thanks.”

“You're one of my best friends. It's been a long time since there's been anyone who's caught your interest. I thought after Jim you'd never date again.”

Molly made a face. “Yeah, I just about swore off men because of him.”

“Just promise me that if it looks like it will all go south you'll think of your career, all right? Don't make any hasty decisions about leaving the production. If you do this play and you can show everyone just how talented you are you can be one of the biggest names on the West End.”

“I will,” Molly said with a nod. “Are you free right now? I was thinking we could grab a bite to eat.”

“I can spare an hour or two for lunch,” Sally said, standing up. Molly did the same. “And you can tell me all about why it took you four days to haul yourself over here. I get the feeling a certain talented actor has been occupying a lot of your time the last few days.”

Molly smiled. “All right, I'll tell you about the non-date dates we've had.” Sally grinned at her as she got her purse and Molly relaxed even more. Things would work out, or at least she hoped they would. She just had to have faith she wasn't making a colossally bad decision to date him.


	4. Chapter 4

After what seemed like a very long wait the first day of rehearsals arrived. Molly found she was incredibly nervous for it, mostly because of Irene Adler. She knew Sherlock would try his level best to get Irene to leave Molly alone, but there was no guarantee it would actually work. From everything Sally had told her and the few stories John had imparted she sounded like she could be vicious when someone got in her way. It didn’t help that Molly knew the director would much prefer to have Irene play the lead. That caused her to worry even more the night before everyone’s first day.

Sherlock met her at her home at six-thirty, just as she was leaving to go get the dogs. He was coming up just as she was locking up; John and Mrs. Hudson were still asleep, and she hadn’t wanted them to be unprotected. She gave Sherlock a grin when he got over to her. “You know, you don’t have to get up early every morning to help. It’s not like I’m giving you any of the money I earn,” she said.

“I don’t sleep very much anyway,” he said with a slight shrug, handing her one of the two cups of coffee he had been carrying. He had done this every morning since the first one where he joined her. She had told him he didn’t have to but she admitted she appreciated it. She didn’t mind early mornings, but she was usually happier once she had some caffeine in her system. They began to walk down the sidewalk a moment later. “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about last night. I think you’re right in that we should keep things a secret from everyone except John.”

She nodded. She had thought it best if no one else knew that they had started dating. She was a good enough actress that she could keep things professional between them when they were working, and she thought it would keep Irene from retaliating quite as much. She took a sip of her coffee before she spoke. “How are we going to work sharing a cab to the theatre together, though?”

“John said he would come with us. The three of us walking in together should dispel any rumors because most people know John and I have been friends for years, and once they know you and he are sharing the same flat it will make more sense that all three of us are sharing a cab. I just promised him we’d pick up a fresh coffee for him when we were done with the dogs.”

She gave him a grin. “That’s a very good arrangement, I think.” She was quiet for a minute, and then reached over for his hand. She had done that a few times while they walked in the days before, and she found he always gripped her hand tightly when she did. That made her feel very warm inside. Today was no exception, as he shifted his hold on her hand and laced his fingers between hers. “So do you think we’ll have enough time to get a bite to eat before we start?”

“It usually takes forty-five minutes to walk the dogs and get them back home, and it’s not a very long trip to the theatre. We can get something at the bakery by the theatre and eat it at the start of rehearsals. John was planning on doing that himself, mostly because he likes to sleep in as late as humanly possible. It’s not that he’s lazy, but he’s definitely a night owl.”

She chuckled. “I’ve noticed that. I can hear him banging around sometimes.”

Sherlock grinned. “He’ll get into a routine soon enough and sleep earlier in the night. But if he is keeping you awake, tell him. He’s usually very good at being quieter if he knows he’s disturbing someone.”

“Oh, it’s not that, not at all,” she said, her eyes wide. “I’m just a very light sleeper. It doesn’t take much to wake me up.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth she began to turn red at the cheeks. He looked over at her and had a look on his face that told her he thought he’d just said the absolute worst thing. “I mean, if I decide to call you late at night or something,” he said hurriedly.

“Ah,” she said. To tell the truth, he hadn’t even kissed her yet. He hadn’t really tried, and neither had she. They were both moving in this new relationship at a very slow pace, which suited her just fine, but she just hoped their first kiss happened before they had to kiss in the play. It would be very disheartening to have to kiss him for work before she got to kiss him for fun. She looked away after a moment. “Have you worked with Phillip before?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Once. He is good, but he has his favorites, and I am not one of them. There is a chance you and John will also end up not being favorites of his, especially if Irene has him under her thrall. But he is fair, and if you do good work he won’t treat you too badly. He just won’t show you any favoritism.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I have made a decision about this production, though.”

“Oh?” she asked, looking at him again.

“I’m going to try and be friendly to the entire cast, so there won’t be any accusations of favoritism from me. It will make things easier in the long run, and perhaps it might be good to try and be more like a normal person and less like a robot.”

“I don’t think you’re like a robot at all,” she said.

“You haven’t worked with me yet,” he said with a wry grin. “Apparently I take dedication to the craft to new extremes. But it might be good to be less aloof with the rest of the cast.” He paused. “Or at least certain members of the cast. I’m not going to be particularly nice to Irene, I think. I haven’t before.”

“You’ve worked with her before?” she asked, slightly surprised.

“Twice, both times much earlier in my career. I was not the leading man in either production, or really had a role that was meaty enough for her to think I had power, so I watched as she maneuvered her way towards getting favor from the people who had more pull and power. I’ve seen other women like her in other productions, and been targeted by a few, but none were as good at it as she was and probably still is.”

“I see,” she said quietly.

He stopped and looked at her. “She will never sink her teeth into me, if that’s what you’re worried about. I despise women like her, who think they can make their way in the world flat on their back. She’s a decent enough actress, I suppose, but one day she’s going to find she’s got more ex-lovers waiting in the wings to bring her down a few pegs than she will have people to raise her up. She won’t have earned her way by hard work, and it’s going to bite her in the arse.”

“I know, but for this production she can make my life hell. I’m just worried she’ll do it often enough that I just give up. I’ve wanted to do this my entire life, and I’ve wanted the chance to prove myself in my career. I don’t want her to muck it all up.”

“We have a deal,” he said. “If she does get to be too much for you to bear I will honor our deal. I will make sure she doesn’t make you regret becoming an actress.”

She nodded and after a moment began walking again. He changed the subject and they talked as they got the dogs and walked them, and then they returned them to their homes and made their way back to her home, picking up a cup of coffee for John and two more for each of them. John was ready when they got there, and the three of them got in a cab and made their way to the bakery to get breakfast. Once they had that taken care of they walked to the theatre, but they weren’t the first ones there. Henry Knight was there, sitting in one of the seat with his elbows on his thighs, lost in thought. “Henry?” Molly asked after a moment when the three of them got closer.

“Oh! I didn’t realize anyone else was here yet,” he said, lifting his head up. “I always tend to come in early.”

“That’s a good habit to have,” Sherlock said with a nod.

“I suppose it is,” he said with a slight smile. “I know who you are, but I only caught your first name, Molly, and I don’t know you at all,” he said, motioning first to Molly and then John as he spoke. He stood up and offered his hand to John. “I’m Henry Knight.”

“John Watson,” John said, shifting his hold on his food to shake his hand.

“And my last name is Hooper,” Molly said with a smile. “Do you mind the company?”

“No, not at all,” he said, sitting back down. John moved to his left side and Molly sat down on his right. Sherlock sat down next to her. “I’m rather nervous. I’ve heard what it’s like to work with you,” he said, leaning forward to look at Sherlock. “Most people don’t find it pleasant, but they admire you too much to really complain.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf,” he said as he got his breakfast out. “Or I’m going to try to, at least.”

“And if he doesn’t succeed I’ll make sure he’s not too insufferable,” John said with a chuckle. “It helps being his best friend.”

“Ah,” Henry said with a nod. “What about all of you? Are you nervous?”

“I am, a bit,” Molly said as she got her own breakfast sorted. “Mostly because of certain other cast members.”

“Let me guess. Irene Adler?” Henry asked.

Molly blinked. “How did you know?”

“We have the same agent,” he said. “Or had, at any rate. She’d been complaining bitterly that she was cast as Jessica and not Angelica, so our agent asked me to make sure you were miserable so that you’d quit. I refused so he let me go as a client.”

Molly’s eyes were wide. “She’s absolutely awful.”

“Well, I got this part already, but after this, who knows?” Henry said with a shrug. “I’m better off without him. He’s a bit of a shady character. I’m fairly sure he was taking more from me than he should have.”

“What’s his name?” Sherlock asked.

“James Moriarty. Used to be an actor himself but he figured he’d make more money as an agent.”

Molly felt sick to her stomach. “Oh, God,” she said quietly.

“What’s wrong?” john asked with a frown.

“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” she said quietly. “If he knows I have the part he’ll double down on making sure I walk away from it. We had a rather nasty break-up.”

“We’ll protect you from him,” John said adamantly. Henry nodded fervently, and when she glanced over at Sherlock she saw he was nodding as well. She relaxed, but only a little. This was very bad news.

“It will be all right,” Sherlock said quietly.

“Do you promise?” she asked him.

He nodded. “I do.” He looked over at Henry. “If you are without an agent at the moment I believe Molly’s would be an excellent replacement. My agent isn’t taking new clients, and I doubt John’s is either.”

“No, she’s not,” John said.

“But I believe your friend still has a few vacancies?” Sherlock asked Molly.

Molly turned and gave Henry a small grin. “Yeah, she does. And Sally’s great. She only wants the best for her clients and she fights very hard for them. And she’s not a cheat. You’ll get every cent owed to you.” She then looked back at Sherlock. “How did you know?”

“She helped me make sure you got to this audition. I felt I should repay the kindness,” he said after a moment.

“So you wanted Molly for this part?” Henry asked with a grin as they heard the door open to the side.

“I had been suitably impressed by other performances of hers,” he said. “As I am one of the producers of this play I have quite a bit of say in who’s in it. As it stands, I think we have a very talented cast.”

“I’m glad you think I have talent,” Henry said. “That’s a high compliment.”

Sherlock nodded. “As it is, the only person I anticipate having problems with is Irene.”

“Oh, already so dour and distrusting,” a woman said as she got closer. Sherlock scowled and Molly knew immediately that this was the infamous Irene Adler. “I think I can be quite pleasant, when I’m given a chance.”

“I didn’t want you in this production at all,” Sherlock said sourly.

“But you were outvoted,” she said with a grin that looked quite smug. She got closer to them, then nodded. “Henry. John.”

“Irene,” they replied in unison.

Then she focused her attention on Molly. “And you must be Molly Hooper. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” she said quietly.

“Most of it wasn’t pleasant, of course. But I’m willing to form my own opinions. Give everyone a chance. Unlike some other people.” Then she turned her smile to Sherlock. “But I hope to change your opinion soon.”

“Not bloody likely,” he said.

“Well, I’ll try _very_ hard,” she purred, sitting down on his other side. She put her hand near his arm. “I can be quite persuasive.”

“I doubt you will change my opinion of you much,” he said. “If anything you’ll just reinforce it.” He moved his arm. “You won’t get what you want from me, Irene.”

“Well, you know what they say about wearing a man down,” she said. “And I’m very good at what I do.”

“You mean being flat on your back?” John asked with an amused grin.

She leaned forward and glared at him. “Well, I see your choice in friends is still poor,” she said towards Sherlock.

“At least I don’t use people up and spit them out,” Sherlock said. “I find that tends to make me more enemies than allies. But John does have a point. I doubt you’ve ever _really_ worked for any of the parts you’ve gotten.”

Irene stood up, a scowl on her face. “If it’s going to be like that then I suppose I can be just as disagreeable as the two of you.” Then she turned to Molly. “I want your part. I’ll make sure I get it, too. I always get what I want. Though I’m not quite sure how much I want him anymore.”

“Well, that’s the best bit of news I’ve heard all day,” Sherlock said, looking at her. “But I promise, if you make Molly uncomfortable or you cause her to abandon her role I will make you pay in a way that hurts very much.”

“And just what can you do?” Irene asked, crossing her arms.

Sherlock set his food aside and stood up, staring down at her. “I can make sure you never have a decent part in any production ever again,” he said quietly. “I know quite a few powerful men in this business, and a few powerful women, all of whom would be very willing to destroy your career. Especially if I start convincing the men you’ve discarded to be a bit more vocal in their distaste for you. I can ensure you’re playing bit parts in regional theatre for the rest of your career.”

She blanched slightly. “You wouldn’t,” she said quietly.

“Try me,” he said. “Or better yet, don’t cross me and then you won’t find out if I’m bluffing or not.”

She stared up at him, then turned on her heel. “Don’t think this is over,” she called behind her shoulder as she walked away back towards the door. After a moment they all heard it slam behind her. Molly jumped slight as the sound echoed in the quiet theatre.

“Well, that went well,” John murmured.

Sherlock sat back down and looked over at Molly intently. “I promise you I will not let her ruin this for you,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

Molly nodded. “Yes.”

“Then trust that I will do everything I can to make sure you keep this part all the way through production.” 

“All right,” she said quietly. She looked at the rest of her food but she didn’t have an appetite. This did not bode well for the rest of her days with this production, she thought to herself. This did not bode well at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Irene made everyone's life miserable, it seemed, and by the end of the week Molly was terribly afraid she would end up leaving the production before it actually got performed on stage. Friday's rehearsals ran late and so Molly, Sherlock and John left in a rush so she could go do her dog walking job. The three of them settled in the cab and were quiet as it pulled away. Finally, John spoke a few minutes later. “That's been an interesting week, hasn't it?”

“That's an understatement,” Sherlock said quietly. Then he turned to Molly, who was sitting in between them. “I'm very sorry she's made it so hard.”

“I really do dislike her,” Molly said with a sigh, shutting her eyes. “And the worst part is Phillip lets her get away with it. I'm starting to wonder how far she'll go before he puts a stop to it. She might actually succeed in driving me away from this play.”

“I won't let it get that far,” he said, reaching over for her hand. She let him hold it and after a moment she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I'm doing what I can to make the situation easier.”

“I know you are, and thank you for that,” she said.

They lapsed into silence until they got to Molly and John's home. The three of them got out of the cab and Molly and Sherlock began to walk to get the dogs. Sherlock was holding her hand again, swinging it just slightly as they walked. “Let me make this up to you,” he said after a minute or so of silence.

“How?” she asked.

“Let's go do something tonight where you can relax. Or at least something you might find more enjoyable than our other dates.”

“I was honestly considering staying home and taking a long bath and relaxing with a glass of wine and take-out,” she admitted. “But I can always do that after we go out. Maybe minus the take-out, of course.”

“I could cook for you tonight,” he said thoughtfully. “We could just spend an evening in and relax.”

“Do you think we could watch a film or something too?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “I don't really know what your taste in movies is, but I'm sure we can find something we can both agree on. I have a lot of DVDs in my room.”

“That sounds like a good date tonight,” he said with a grin, getting one in return. “And maybe tomorrow I can try and impress you. It wouldn't take long for me to plan something nice.”

“I think I'd like that,” she said with a nod. “Sally said she has a very nice dress I can borrow. I'll see about getting it from her tomorrow at some point before our date.”

He turned away from her, grin still on his face. “It's been a very long time since I've tried to impress anyone. I'm not sure I'll do the best job.”

“Well, you try your best and I'll make sure I shower you with encouragement so you do it again,” she said with a chuckle. “Most people don't try and do anything special for me.”

His grin faltered a bit. “Like James Moriarty?” he asked quietly.

She nodded slowly. “Yes, like him. He was not a very good man.”

He was quiet for a minute or so. “If you don't want to talk about it I'll understand, but I think it would be better if I knew.”

“You're right. I suppose I should tell you about him, since he might cause trouble now,” she said with a slight sigh. “We met at a play. He was very charming, but also very driven. Very focused on his goal of becoming a big name in theatre. But I piqued his interest for some reason.”

“How long ago was this?” he asked.

“Three years ago, give or take. We would chat while we were doing the play, and I'll admit I flirted with him a bit, and he'd flirt back. Nothing happened until the play was over, though. We went on our first date a week after the play folded. He had moved right on to another part, and I was back to working for Mrs. Hudson while I was auditioning for other parts. I should have known after that first date he wasn't all he'd seemed.”

“What happened?”

“He took me to a fancy restaurant and then said he'd forgotten his wallet when the check came. I had money on me that day, thankfully, but he swore it wouldn't happen again and I believed him. And it didn't happen again for two months afterward. The next time it was a bigger bill, and he suggested we just skip out on the bill, leave before the waiter came back. I refused to do that.” She was quiet for a moment. “I had a flat of my own at that point, a nice place in SoHo. He spent a lot of time there, and I didn't think much of it because he was my boyfriend and all.”

“I take it something bad happened,” he said.

She nodded. “My sister got sick and I needed to go home for a bit. He asked if he could stay at my flat since his was being worked on. I trusted him so I said fine. I was gone for two weeks when I decided to use my bank card to pay for something and it came back as having insufficient funds. I came back home at that point to find out my bank account had been drained. And then I got to my flat and opened it up to find the place had been ransacked. Every single valuable item I'd had was stolen and the place was a disaster.”

Sherlock looked at her, his eyes wide. “How much did you lose?” he asked.

“Between the money and the things I owned about twenty thousand pounds. That was my entire life savings, the money I was living off of when I was between acting jobs. And the worst part was even though I knew he had done it I could never prove it. He stopped returning my calls and disappeared. So I lost my possessions, and I ended up losing my flat as well since I couldn't pay the rent. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Hudson letting me move into her home and not charging me rent for the first six months as I tried to replace everything I would have ended up destitute and homeless.”

“I am so sorry that happened to you,” he said quietly.

“I learned my lesson. I dated a bit after that but I never trusted anyone. I never let another man come into my home, never let them really learn anything about me. I kept myself closed off and they went away, which I suppose would have hurt more if I hadn't thought that it was for the best because then they wouldn't hurt me like Jim had.”

“You trust me, though,” he said thoughtfully.

“When we went out on our first actual date I came home and Mrs. Hudson said she wanted to hear all about it. She knew about the other men and Jim and she said you would never hurt me like that, that you were a good and honest man. She said if you actually fancied me enough to ask me out on a date that you would treat me very well and never purposefully hurt me. Since I trust her judgment I knew it would be all right to trust you.”

“I feel quite honored,” he said.

“She thinks just as highly of you as you do of her,” Molly said with a smile. “And I think she's just happy the two of us are taking a chance with each other. I don't think she liked seeing either of us be lonely.”

“I moved in with her shortly after my failed engagement,” he said. “I lived there for nearly eight years. Even when I was beginning to make enough money to afford a place of my own I didn't leave. And I'm glad I didn't, because the last two years I lived there John lived there as well. I don't think we would have met otherwise. I moved out shortly after he did.”

“And I moved in three years ago,” she said. “If you had stayed a little longer things might have been very different.”

“Yes, they might have been,” he said with a nod. “But I think it's worked out so far regardless.”

“I think it has too,” she said with a smile. “We should probably hurry up and get the dogs soon so we can have our date.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. They went about collecting the dogs and walking them, and once they were delivered back to their homes they went back to Molly's home to go through her DVD collection. Sherlock picked out two movies that interested him and then they left again. She had to admit, she was nervous to see exactly where he lived. He had said he was close, but that could mean a few different things. But he took a left and they walked for eight blocks before he stopped in front of a door. “This is my home,” he said, pulling out his keys.

“You own the whole place?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I do, but I only live on the top floor. This building was one of my best investments. The bottom floor is rented out to a young married couple with two children. Since the wife is an executive at a big company now I don't think they'll be staying much longer, but it is a very nice place. If they leave I may propose John take the bottom floor for himself. I'll just charge him an obscenely low rent. Or I may not charge him at all. It would be nice to live with him again.”

“You're going to take my flatmate away, aren't you?” she asked with a chuckle.

“I would suggest you move in but I thought that might be too forward of me,” he said.

“It is, a bit,” she said with a nod as he unlocked the door. “But I think John would love to have his own space and not have to share a home with two women.”

“Well, there's still time before that might happen. They need to tell me they're leaving first.” He opened the door and stepped inside a hallway. There was a hallway to the right with a door at the far end of it and a set of stairs in front of them. She shut the door behind her and he locked it behind them, then nodded towards the stairs. “Originally this building had three floors. Instead of renting out both of the other two floors I had renovations done to make my apartment two storied. It cost a bit of money, but it was a good investment, I think.”

“Do you make that much as an actor?” she asked.

“Actually, part of it was from an inheritance I got before I moved out of Mrs. Hudson's home. My grandfather passed away and he left a considerable sum of money to myself and my brother. I found this building and decided I wanted to buy it and convert it into the home I'd hoped I could have when I'd been planning on getting married.” He moved over toward the stairs and she followed. “I'd had an idea in my head of where I wanted to live since I was in my early twenties if I ever got enough money. When I had the money I decided to make it a reality.”

She nodded. “I can't wait to see it,” she said.

They lapsed into silence as they made their way up the stairs. When they got to the top there was another hallway and a door at the end of it. They made their way down there and he unlocked that door as well. He opened up the door and stepped inside, and she followed. “So this is my home,” he said.

She looked around, her eyes wide. He had a very spacious sitting room with a large kitchen to the side. To the other side there were a set of stairs that went to a second floor, and she assumed that was where the bedrooms were. Even though it was getting dark she could see there were two rows of windows on the side that faced the street and she assumed they let in a lot of light during the day. There was a room under the stairs that had a partially open door. She moved in more and took the place in. “This is a very lovely place,” she said, turning to him and giving him a wide smile.

“I don't show it off very often,” he said with a chuckle. “I forget what it's like for people to see it for the first time.”

“If I ever got to design my own home I would design a place like this, I think,” she said as she turned around to take in all the details.

“You can explore, if you'd like. There are three bedrooms up the stairs, just in case I ever had company, and then my study is here on the ground floor.”

“You’ll actually let me look around?” she asked, surprised.

“Well, I’ve been at your home quite a few times and know it quite well. Since I hope you’ll come over more often it wouldn’t hurt for you to at least know where everything is,” he said with a nod. “Besides, you trust me. I’d like to make sure you know I trust you as well.”

She got a wide smile on her face, and after a moment she moved closer to him and hesitantly kissed his cheek. He looked at her with surprise on his face when she pulled away. “I appreciate it,” she said quietly.

“I can see that,” he said with a grin of his own. “I’ll go see what I can make for us to eat.”

“All right.” He turned and went into the kitchen and she looked at his home. After a minute she made her way up the stairs to the bedrooms. She opened the first door and saw a very nice looking room that she assumed was one of the guest bedrooms. After going in and looking at it she shut the door and went to the room across from it. That room was the washroom she was fairly sure his guests would use. It was very spacious and it had an old-fashioned claw foot tub there. She would love to be able to soak in it one day, she thought to herself. When she was done exploring that room she made her way down the hall again. On the same side as the washroom was another guest bedroom, which looked very similar to the first one. That meant the last room on the hallway was his bedroom. She hesitated outside the door and then opened it.

It was almost exactly how she had pictured his bedroom: solid wood furniture that looked as though it was oak, a large bed with a slatted headboard of the same wood as the dresser and nightstands and desk. And there were photographs on the wall. None of them were of people but they were all breathtaking. She recognized one or two as being from London but the rest she didn't recognize. She was looking at one that she thought might be the Brooklyn Bridge in New York when the door opened up behind her. “Do you like my photographs?” Sherlock asked, and when she turned to look at him she saw he was staring at her intently, as though her answer was very important.

“They're stunning,” she said. Then she pointed to one. “Is this the Brooklyn Bridge?”

He nodded. “I was walking near the bridge and I had my camera with me just in case there was anything worth photographing and I saw that perspective so I stopped and got a quick shot of it.”

“ _You_ took these photos?” she asked, shocked.

He nodded. “I have quite a few talents aside from acting and producing,” he said as he moved closer to her. “Photography is the one that brings me the most peace, and I do my best thinking when I'm playing the violin. But I feel most alive when I'm writing.”

She knew she was staring at him with a slightly slacked jaw and wide eyes. “You're just a modern day Renaissance man, aren't you?” she asked finally, giving him a bit of a grin.

He chuckled a bit. “I suppose I am.” He moved closer to her. “I'll let you in on a secret.”

“All right,” she said with a nod.

“I wrote the play we're performing now. When I was fifteen I talked to an actor on one of my movie sets who was a theatre actor. We were filming for six months and he took me under his wing. He told me stories of his life before the war and afterwards when he left the military and decided to pursue acting and of life as a theatre actor. One of the stories he told me is the basis of the play. I had it rattling around in my head for years until I went to university and took a creative writing class where our teacher assigned us a project. That semester's project was to tell a story that didn't belong to us in a form you felt comfortable with. Since I was an actor I wrote a play, and so 'The Makings Of A Love' was born.”

“But that's not the title of the play,” she said with a frown.

He chuckled. “No, it's not. My professor suggested the title we use now. And she also suggested if I were to ever get it published that I should do it under a pseudonym. I had a bit of fame growing up, and it could be used against me. I took all her advice and submitted it in certain circles and it got interest. And then people figured out the author didn't really exist and they wondered if the play was a fake, something written by someone else and played off as his. No one touches it, which is a shame. Now that I have some clout I wanted to see it be done and have the part I'd always envisioned myself having.”

“Are you ever going to reveal you're the playwright?” she asked.

He nodded. “It will be in the Playbill that is given to everyone attending the play, starting from the performance the critics will review. There will be a section with the entire story explaining why I decided to hide the fact I was the writer and my thoughts and intentions when I wrote this play.”

“If this play is your creation why would you let Phillip direct it?” she asked. “You two seem on the verge of open warfare most of the time.”

“He approached Lestrade with the play, asking if he'd back it. Lestrade knows the truth, so he said he would but only if I was the star. Anderson didn't want to at first, but it was the only way I was going to get this play performed and have some say in how it was run.”

“So Phillip knows as well?” Molly asked.

“No. Only Lestrade and now you,” he replied. “I'll tell the rest of the cast the day we have our last dress rehearsal. But for now it's just the three of us who are privy to that particular secret.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” she said with a smile. She really did feel honored that he trusted her with that big of a secret. She would keep it until it was time for everyone else to know. She turned her attention back to his photographs. “You've traveled a lot.”

“When I'm between plays I like to leave London for a time,” he said as he nodded and moved closer to her. “I have more of my photographs on the wall all throughout the place. I suppose I'm not a fan of traditional art, though I do have a few pieces that were gifts.”

“I saw those in the guest bedrooms,” she said with a smile.

“My fiancée was into art,” he said quietly. “She wanted to have expensive pieces throughout our flat. After the experience with her I suppose my opinion of art in general soured.”

“You should come with me to the art museum one time,” Molly said. “It's one of my favorite places in the city. I love making up stories about the people and objects in the paintings.”

He gave her a smile. “I think that could make it bearable, if you'll share your stories with me.”

“Then we can do that at some point this week. Or next weekend, perhaps.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” He started to move closer to her, hesitating just a moment, then looked at the photographs with her. “Would you like to take one of these home with you?”

“Really?” she asked, turning to him with wide eyes.

“Well, maybe not the ones on this wall, but one of the others. And I have copies of all the photographs, plus more. If there are any you like I could have them matted and framed as a gift for you.”

“I would love some. My bedroom walls are so dreary.” She moved closer to him, leaning towards his side. “Thank you, Sherlock. It's really a very nice gesture.”

“Are you going to kiss my cheek again?” he asked. “Because if you're going to kiss me again I'd rather have it be an actual kiss.” She looked over at him for a moment before pulling back, and he hung his head. “That came out the wrong way.”

“It's all right,” she said, moving so she was in front of him. She reached up and tilted his face up so he was looking at her and the soft smile she had on her face. After a moment he began to grin back, and he reached forward to settle one hand on each side of her waist. She moved her hands up and set them lightly on his chest. “I would like it very much if you would kiss me properly now.”

He nodded slightly and leaned in as she did the same. Their lips met and he kept the kiss soft and undemanding for a few minutes, but then she stepped closer and opened up her mouth slightly. When she did that he slid his hands around to the small of her back and pulled her close against him as she moved her hands up so she could put her arms around his neck. Then he deepened the kiss and for a few minutes she felt completely elated and all the worries and stress from the last week just melted away as she stood there in his arms. Finally they pulled apart because they both needed to breathe and he looked at her, massaging her lower back slightly. “That was definitely better kiss than a stage kiss,” he murmured.

“Yes, it was,” she said with a slight chuckle. “I wouldn't mind doing it again.”

“Well, I had come up here to tell you I don't have enough food to make a meal for more than one person so I was going to see what you wanted delivered. Can the food wait?”

“Yeah, the food can wait,” she said even as she was leaning back in towards him.

“Good,” he said quietly before he kissed her again, more passionately this time. She kissed him back quite eagerly. She knew it wouldn't go farther than kisses tonight, and she was fine with that, mostly because the kisses were absolutely wonderful. She was certainly glad she had decided to trust him and he, in turn, had trusted her. This boded well for their relationship continuing for quite some time, and that was what she wanted right now more than anything else, even fame and fortune. Her feelings were growing and while they might not be love or even close to it yet, she cared for him greatly and she didn't want him to leave. Today had given her hope that perhaps he wouldn't because he knew there was something there as well, and that made all the headache Irene was giving them worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

Molly was a bit nervous as she got ready for her date with Sherlock the next day. Sally had let her borrow the dress she'd mentioned when Molly had visited her office, and it looked spectacular. Sherlock wouldn't say where he was taking her, but she just hoped the dress was nice enough. She made her way to the sitting room to see John sitting in one of the chairs, his laptop on his lap. “Anything interesting?” she asked.

He looked up and his jaw dropped. “Bloody hell, Molly. You look stunning.”

She blushed slightly. “You really think so?”

“If I didn't know Sherlock would find a way to make me pay I'd try and steal you out from under him,” he said with a grin.

She laughed softly and went over to him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “You're incredibly sweet, John.”

“I try to be,” he said with a chuckle. “And back to your first question, I'm just doing some writing. Nothing very important, just some stuff for money because I'm still trying to replace a lot of things.”

“Like a novel?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he said with a nod. Then he glanced at his screen again. “Looks like I got an email from Greg.”

“Oh?” she asked, moving around the chair to stand behind him. He pulled up the email and the two of them read it at the same time. The more she read the more she frowned. “All of the men in the cast are going to be in a bachelor auction?” she said when she was done.

“Except Ryan, but that's because he's married,” John said. “You should tell Greg about you and Sherlock so he doesn't have to do it.”

“No, absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head. “If he knows then everyone else will find out and if we thought rehearsals were hell they'll get worse.”

“Is that such a bad thing, though?” John asked, tilting his head slightly. “Not rehearsals being hell, but everyone knowing?”

“It could ruin my reputation. Most of the cast knows Sherlock wanted me for the role. If they find out we're dating they'll think I got the role flat on my back, and I don't have Irene's clout to withstand a rumour like that.”

He frowned. “I suppose you're right,” he said as the front door opened.

“And I hate that I am,” she said with a sigh as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. After a moment she saw Mrs. Hudson come up. “Hello, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Hello,” she said with a warm smile to Molly and John. Then she frowned. “You both look as though something bad has happened.”

“There's going to be a bachelor auction, and the men in the cast are being put up in it,” John said.

Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened. “Sherlock included?” she asked.

“Sherlock included,” Molly said.

“Oh, dear. I'm so sorry,” she said sympathetically. She moved over to her. “Is there any way you could bid?”

“I barely have enough money to pay my bills,” Molly said with a sad smile. “I doubt I would ever have enough to win him at the auction.”

Mrs. Hudson hobbled over to her and enveloped her in a warm hug. Molly hugged her back after a moment. “It will be all right. He fancies you, just remember that.”

“I will,” Molly said quietly. Then she pulled away from Mrs. Hudson. “This puts a bit of a damper on my evening, though.”

Mrs. Hudson took a good look at her, finally taking in the dress. “You two are going out on a date tonight?”

“He wanted to impress me,” she said with a nod. “But right now I just want to crawl into bed again.”

“Well, you can still enjoy tonight. When is this auction?” she asked.

John checked his email. “In three weeks. A little over that, actually.”

“Then worry about it closer to the date.” Mrs. Hudson gave her a smile. “Go enjoy tonight and dazzle him in that beautiful dress.”

“I'll try,” she said with a smile as there was a knock on the front door. “I think he's here. I'll see both of you later.”

“See you later, Molly. Knock him dead,” John called over.

She smiled slightly as she made her way to the door. She opened it and saw Sherlock standing there in a well cut suit with his greatcoat on over it. He looked at her for a moment, slightly wide-eyed. “You look very nice tonight,” he said finally.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing even more than she had when John had complimented her. “You look very nice yourself.”

“I think between the two of us you look best,” he said with a grin. He offered her his hand and she took it as she stepped out of her home. “I thought I could take you to dinner, and then I made arrangements for something I think you'd enjoy.”

“Oh?” she asked as they made their way to a waiting cab.

“An acquaintance of mine owns a gallery and they have a special photography exhibit going on. I gave him three pieces for it but I hadn't planned on visiting it. He's said he'll open the gallery especially for us tonight so we can view them without a crowd.”

“Oh, that sounds quite lovely,” she said with a smile. “Were any of the photos you gave him in your home?”

“One was. The one of the London skyline at dusk that I took from the roof of my building. The other ones I don't have up in my home.”

“I did like that one quite a bit,” she said as they got into the cab. “What are the other two?”

“One is a child looking up in the rain and the other is a sunset I viewed in Maui,” he said. “I think they are two of the best photographs I've done, but I haven't gotten around to getting prints for myself. I might offer to buy them off my acquaintance when the collection goes up for sale. Less work that way.”

“I suppose.” She was quiet for a moment. “Did you know about the auction?” she finally asked.

“I tried to talk Lestrade out of volunteering us,” he said with a sigh. “But it's for a good cause and it will be good publicity for the play. I couldn't convince him there was a downside to it, even though I tried.”

“And you're going to be up for auction.”

He nodded. “Yes, unfortunately. I can't get out of it without making our relationship public, and as this last week has shown that would only cause more problems, not less.” Then he paused. “Unless you want me to. If you want it to be public knowledge I'll tell everyone.”

She sighed. “No. Irene would definitely have it in for me even more if it came out we're dating.”

He reached over for her hand again. She grasped it, and then he moved his hands so their fingers were linked together. “I am sorry for this.”

“It's all right,” she said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. She knew it didn't quite reach her eyes but she also knew in this darkened cab he wouldn't be able to tell very well. He gave her a small grin back but she had the feeling he didn't feel very reassured either. Instead of speaking again she leaned her head on his shoulder and stayed close to him. They rode in silence until they came to a stop. He got out and extended a hand for her. When she stepped out of the cab she looked up at the building. “The Ledbury?” she said, her eyes wide.

“I wasn't sure if you'd like French food, but this is one of my favorite places to dine when I'm in the mood,” he said. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

“I think I'll like it quite a bit,” she said, giving him a wide smile. She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly.

“We have reservations,” he said, moving towards the building. She followed him and he opened the door for her. She looked around, her eyes taking in every detail. They made their way to the maître d' and Sherlock gave the man his name. The man nodded and began to lead them to a table. They were almost there when Sherlock groaned. “Of all the...” he said quietly.

“What?” Molly asked.

“Irene is here,” he murmured, nodding towards one of the other tables. Molly looked where he was nodding and saw Irene sitting there with a gentleman, her hand on his arm as she leaned in to laugh at something he had said. Sherlock turned to the maître d'. “Are there any other tables available?” he asked.

The man shook his head. “None, sir. There will be no openings at all tonight.”

He sighed. “Is there anyone at the front hoping to get a table tonight?” The maître d' nodded. “Give them our table. We need to dine elsewhere.”

“Very well, sir,” he said, leading them back to the front. Molly saw a young man and woman sitting there, very nervous. The clothing was nice but she could tell they didn't have much money. The maître d' told them a table had unexpectedly opened up, and the look of surprise that crossed the man's face followed by the grateful smile he directed towards her and Sherlock made her feel a little better. At least someone would get to enjoy a good meal.

The young man came up to them. “Thank you so much,” he said. “I wanted to make tonight special, something she would remember, and I think I can now.”

Sherlock nodded. “Enjoy your meal tonight.” The young man went back to his date and Sherlock gestured for the maître d' to come closer. He pulled out some money. “This should cover whatever they order,” he said, handing it to the maître d'. The man nodded before going back to the couple and leading them in towards the restaurant.

Molly smiled at him. “That was incredibly kind of you,” she said, reaching over for his hand as they exited the restaurant.

“I could see a small box in his suit jacket pocket,” he said. “And the comment he made led me to believe he was there to propose to her.”

“If I didn't already know you were a romantic at heart that would have convinced me.”

“How did you get that idea?” he asked with an amused smile.

“You wrote our play,” she said simply. “If you weren't a romantic at heart it wouldn't have been nearly as good.”

“But that was before my experience with my fiancée,” he pointed out.

“Maybe. But you also went to a lot of trouble to date me,” she said. “That was further proof.”

He chuckled slightly. “Well, I suppose we need to find someplace else to eat,” he said. “I doubt we can go somewhere very nice, as they all need reservations, but we can find something.”

“I'll be happy with anything, really. Are there any restaurants near the gallery?”

“A few. How do you feel about sushi?”

“I've never had it before, but I'm willing to give it a shot,” she said with a smile. “You'll have to tell me what to try, though.”

“They also have other Japanese food, if none of the sushi sounds appealing,” he said as he made his way to the curb to hail another cab. One pulled up and he opened the door for her. They got in and he gave the driver an address. When it pulled away from the curb he looked at her. “I apologize for the turn the evening took. I hadn't planned on Irene being there.”

“I know. But it's best if we didn't stay since we don't want everyone to know about us,” she said.

“I worry that one day it will anger you that we're keeping it a secret,” he said quietly, looking at her. “And I worry it will get harder to convince everyone that we are simply close friends.”

“We're good enough actors for that. But sometimes I worry too, that there will be a slip. I mean, I can stay professional at work but there have been times I've wanted to just reach over and hold your hand. And I think now that we've actually kissed each other there will be a very strong urge to kiss you outside of when it's called for in scenes.”

“I'm honestly surprised you waited so long. Or that you let me wait so long.”

She chuckled. “We're both taking things very slowly because we've both been hurt. I'd have thought badly of you if you'd rushed into things with me, I think. Not as much as you might think, but a bit. I'd have been worried that you only wanted one thing from me.”

“I hope you never feel that way around me,” he said quietly. “I respect you very much. I respect you enough to never purposefully hurt you.”

“I know,” she said with a smile. She leaned in and kissed him softly, and after a few seconds he returned the kiss eagerly. She honestly wouldn't have minded if they just went somewhere and did that for most of the date but he wanted to try and impress her and she was going to let him. But for now they could enjoy a few kisses before they went back to what was left of their date. They continued to kiss until they arrived at their destination, and it was with extreme reluctance she pulled away from him. “I feel like I probably look a mess.”

“I doubt you will ever look like a mess,” he said as he began to pay the driver.

“You haven't seen me rolling out of bed yet,” she said with a chuckle. The grin he gave her told her he had definitely heard the implication in that statement, that one day he would indeed see her first thing in the morning. When he was done he got out and helped her out before walking up to a building. He opened the door for her and when she walked in she was assaulted by some delicious smells. They were seated and she looked over the menu, deciding on a teriyaki and tempura platter and a few sushi rolls that Sherlock had recommended. They talked as they waited for their meal and the conversation continued as they ate, and when they were done she felt this was almost as good as dinner at a fancy French restaurant.

He paid for their meal and then they walked over to the gallery. The owner let them in and then left them alone, telling them to find him in the office when they were done viewing the collection. They walked around in silence for a moment before Sherlock stopped and used his free hand to point at a photograph. “That is one of mine,” he said. “The one of the sunset.”

She let go of his hand and stepped closer. “Oh, that is exquisite,” she said. “I've always wondered what it would be like to go travel. That makes me want to go to Hawaii very badly, just so I can see it for myself.”

“Maybe one day I could take you,” he said. “Have you ever actually left the country before?”

“Once, but I only went to Ireland for two weeks. It's not like I went somewhere with a massively different culture.” She moved back over to him. “Let's find your other one. That was the one that intrigued me the most when you told me about it.”

“Why did it intrigue you?” he asked.

“It just surprised me that you'd photograph a person when all of the ones I saw on your wall didn't have people in them,” she said.

“Well, the child is my agent's son,” he said. “She knew I was a photographer and she asked me for photos of him as a gift for her family for the holidays. It was a cloudy day with the threat of rain but it managed to stay back for most of the time I was taking photographs. And then it started to pour suddenly and while everyone else was scrambling to stay dry her son just stood there with a wide smile on his face and I snapped the picture before she pulled him to cover. When I was asked to submit photos for this collection I asked her if I could submit that one and she gave me her permission.”

“I can't wait to see it,” she said. They looked at the other photographs as they searched it out, and finally she spotted one that might be it. “Is this the one?” she asked.

He nodded. “It is,” he said.

“It's spectacular,” she said, letting go of his hand to step closer. “You really should photograph people more often.”

“I suppose I could,” he said thoughtfully. “It's just a matter of finding people who would want to pose for me.”

“You could always ask me,” she said as she turned to smile at him. “If you think you could make me look good I would let you.”

“I don't need to do anything to make you look good,” he replied. “You do that well enough on your own.”

“But I'm not a classic beauty or anything like that,” she said. “I can admit I'm pretty, but I'm not gorgeous.”

“You're very wrong about that,” he said. “Irene is considered a classic beauty and I don't find her appealing at all. The same can be said for other people who are considered to be incredibly attractive.”

“I just feel so plain sometimes,” she said quietly.

He moved closer to her, stepping in front of her. “You are far from being plain,” he said, moving his hands to her waist. “You have a warm and genuine smile that lights up your face. Your eyes are usually filled with a brightness that I envy. And I find you to be incredibly beautiful.”

She looked down slightly, blushing. “You really are good with words,” she said.

He moved a hand away from her waist and tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “I'll make sure I do more than tell you. I'll make sure I show you that you are anything but plain.”

“You really like me, don't you?” she asked quietly.

“I do,” he said with a nod. He used the hand on her waist to pull her closer to him before leaning in and kissing her. She moved her hands to his shoulders as she kissed him back. She knew she was incredibly lucky that this particular man had taken an interest in her, that he liked her for a variety of reasons and that he liked her very much. When they finally pulled apart he rested his forehead against hers. “Do you want to continue to look at the rest of the collection?” he asked, quietly.

“I would like to, unless you want to leave,” she said.

“Then I should stop distracting you.”

She chuckled. “But it's such a lovely distraction,” she replied.

“Well, if we aren't careful we might be inclined to take it further tonight, and I don't think either of us are ready for that,” he said as he pulled away. “So let's continue to look around and then I can take you home.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. He reached over for his hand and they continued to walk around, viewing the photographs and chatting about them as they studied them. After another forty minutes Sherlock found the owner and talked to him alone for a few minutes and then he rejoined Molly. They left the gallery and he hailed them another cab, and she sat close to him as they made their way back to her home. When they arrived he got out of the cab first and helped her out. They made their way up to the door and she gave him a wide smile. “Even though it didn't go according to plan I had a very lovely evening tonight,” she said.

“I impressed you?” he asked with a grin.

“You certainly did,” she replied with a nod. “I think this is the best date I've ever been on.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” he replied. “I suppose I should let you go inside and get ready for bed now.”

“Probably,” she said. “Are you coming by tomorrow to help me walk the dogs again?”

“I look at that as one of our standing dates,” he said with a chuckle.

“Then I'll see you in the morning,” she said before leaning in and kissing him. It was a briefer kiss than many of the other ones that they had shared. “Good night, Sherlock.”

“Good night, Molly,” he said. He turned back to his cab and she watched for a moment before letting herself into her home. When she had shut the door behind her she leaned against it for a moment. If she didn't know any better she'd swear that she was starting to develop especially fond feelings for him. She knew it was very sudden, but she'd almost say she thought she was starting to fall for him very hard. She knew she should probably worry about this but as a wide smile etched itself on her face she decided not to worry and just see where things went between them. That would be the best course of action.


	7. Chapter 7

Another week of rehearsals went by, and while there were bits where it was still torture the rest of the cast seemed to get tired of Irene's incessant drama about two days into the new week. When half the cast threatened to walk Irene toned it down considerably. The next week was easier, and Molly found herself hoping that maybe things would work out after all, that she'd get to keep the part all the way through production. And it helped that she was working with a great group of people, Irene excepted. Henry was quickly becoming a good friend, and she began talking to other cast members during breaks and even going out for a drink with most of the women in the cast one evening.

That Thursday Anderson got an urgent call at twelve-thirty. After a few minutes of conversation he ended the call and looked at the cast. “I hate to do this, but I need to leave and I don't think I'll be back any time soon,” he said. “We'll wrap it up early and meet here tomorrow at nine and have a longer day to make up for leaving early today.” Then he looked at Molly. “I need to talk to you for a moment, Molly, before I go.”

The cast murmured their agreement and soon began heading to get their things. Molly noticed Irene hung back slightly and looked at her, as though she wanted to say something. It made her uneasy, as did whatever matter Anderson wanted to talk to her about. She made her way off the stage and moved over to him. “Is something wrong?” she asked nervously.

“No,” he said with a frown. “I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. Greg said there's a reporter who wants to do an article about you, the up and coming talent who managed to catch the attention of the star of this play and snag herself the lead role. He'll be here tomorrow to observe rehearsals, and to talk to you and the others.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“I know there's no love lost between you and Irene. I know she wants your part, and maybe I've been a bit lax in making sure she's not being a massive bitch to everyone since she didn't get it. I'll admit when we first started I didn't think you would do well, but you've surprised me, and you've impressed me.” He reached over for his coat. “To be honest, I'm starting to regret insisting she had a part at all.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “I see.”

“Don't let it go to your head,” he said with a grin. “I'll make sure the reporter knows to avoid Irene. He's a friend of Greg's so he'll keep her out of the article without mentioning a rivalry.” He paused. “Though that could also be good for ticket sales. But he'll be tactful regardless.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Just keep up the good work.” He put his coat on. “And whatever kind of influence it is you have over Sherlock, keep that up, too. He's actually been bearable during this production. It's a nice change from what I expected.”

“I will. On both counts.”

“I'll see you tomorrow, then,” he said as he nodded towards her. He grabbed his things at that point and then turned and left, leaving Molly by herself, slightly stunned.

“You're never going to be his favorite, you know,” she heard Irene say from behind her. That snapped her out of her stunned state, and she bit back a sigh as she turned around. Irene was staring at her with her arms crossed. “You may be better than I expected, but he knows I would be better in the role.”

She decided almost instantly not to repeat what Anderson had just told her. She looked over at Irene and squared her shoulders. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I have the role and I plan on keeping it until the play is over, and you just have to accept that.”

Irene blinked, as though she was surprised that Molly had a backbone. To be honest, Molly was kind of surprised as well. “You know, Jim said you were mousy and meek. That you'd see only the best and you'd let everyone walk all over you.”

Molly had to work very hard not to show any sign of emotion at his name. “He didn't know me very well, apparently,” she said quietly. “And it's been years. I'm a different person now. He forced me to change.”

“Well, I'm smart enough to use him before he uses me,” she said with a smirk. “I don't see myself making the same mistake you did.”

“That's very dangerous,” she said. “If you're smart you'll get away from him as quickly as you can. Whatever it is he's offering it's not worth it.”

“Are you trying to offer me advice?” Irene scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “That's rich. I don't need your advice. I'm doing well enough with my own life. Better than you expect.”

Molly didn't hold back the sigh this time, looking around Irene towards her friends. “I need to go now, Irene.”

“Go off and enjoy your little odd jobs,” she said as she turned around and walked away. “That's all you're really good for.”

Molly hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had tried. She had tried to be dignified and she had tried to help. If Irene was still going to be a bitch then she deserved whatever it was she got in the end. When she looked up she saw Sherlock come over to her. “Is everything all right?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing a glass or two of wine won't cure when I finally get home tonight,” she said, giving him a small smile. He looked away slightly. “Sherlock? Please tell me you don't have more bad news to add to my day.”

“There may be a small complication you need to be aware of,” he said after a moment. “I take full responsibility for it.”

“Responsibility for what?” she asked hesitantly.

“John might have asked me about plans for our next date a few moments ago and I might have answered without realizing we weren't as alone as I had thought,” he said.

Molly groaned. “Who overheard?”

“Henry,” he said quietly.

Molly looked around Sherlock and saw Henry and John talking quietly. She then turned back to Sherlock. “Well, I might as well go face the music,” she said, moving around him. She made her way over to her other two friends. “How much did they tell you?” she asked Henry.

“Nothing. I mean, not much really,” he said. “To be honest, I'm not really surprised. I don't think anyone would be. If him dating you is the reason he's easier to work with everyone may be offering up their thanks and doing whatever it takes to make sure the two of you stay together throughout the entire production.”

“I didn't realize I had quite that reputation,” Sherlock said with a frown as he came over to them.

“I've tried to tell you that for years,” John said with a chuckle. “You're brilliant at what you do but you're a bit off-putting to people. I mean, we're friends and there's times I wonder if you're not actually a walking, talking, breathing robot.”

“I'm glad to know you think so highly of me,” Sherlock said sourly, scowling.

“Oh, I think you're a great friend and a good person most of the time. But I've only worked with you once before this play, and I remember that most of the cast in our last play would shake in their boots when you'd get in a mood, which you did fairly often. If you weren't such a damn good actor I think there's quite a few people who would refuse to work with you.”

“I'll admit I came to the audition kind of hoping I didn't get a role,” Henry said. “I'd have been one of those actors who were terrified to work with you, but the script was too good to pass up.”

“Well, considering I wrote it it should be,” he murmured. Then he caught himself as John and Henry looked at him with wide eyes. He groaned. “I just keep putting my foot in my mouth today, don't I?”

“You wrote this?” Henry asked.

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Many years ago, when I was in university.”

“You wrote this in _university_?” John asked, gaping slightly. “I knew you were multi-talented but I didn't expect this.”

Sherlock moved over to one of the seats and sat down. “I wrote it, years ago, and I published it under a pseudonym about six months after I finished it. When people found out the author didn't really exist most people discarded the play as something brilliant yet nonviable. If no one knew who really wrote it, what was the point of putting it on?” He looked over at John and Henry. “I could have come out with it years ago but it stung that it had been brushed aside.”

“Have you written any more plays?” Henry asked.

“A few,” he said with a nod. “I don't share them with anyone, though.”

“Could I read them?” he asked hesitantly. “Because really, this play is brilliant. If the rest are as good as this one you should tell the world the truth and get the rest of them performed. You could make a whole second career as a successful playwright.”

“I'd like to read them too, actually,” John said thoughtfully.

“What about you?” Sherlock asked, looking at Molly.

She grinned at him. “I think that would be a very nice way to spend an afternoon.”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to share them,” he said quietly.

“Why don't we go to your home and get something delivered and you can show us what else you've written?” Molly said, looking down at him.

“If you're sure,” he replied.

“I'll take the cab with Henry, let the two of you spend some time alone since we'll probably be around you both for a few hours,” John said with a chuckle. “Because I know eventually you'll want to get rid of the two of us and spend time with just each other.”

“Don't tease him,” Molly said, though she was smiling. Then she looked over at Henry, who had a grin of his own. “You will keep our secret, right?”

“Of course,” Henry said with a nod. “I mean, I honestly think you two should just come out with it, but I can understand why you don't. I'll keep it a secret as long as you tell me to.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said as he stood. “I suppose we should get going. I have three finished plays and one I've been working on for the last few months for us to go through.”

“I can't wait to read them,” John said with a grin. He picked up his things. “If we get to your home before the two of you we'll wait.” Then he paused. “Or are you two going to walk the dogs first?”

Molly groaned. “I had almost forgotten about that.”

“John and I can go get a bite to eat and when you two are done we can all meet at Sherlock's home,” Henry said.

“Or I can tell the owners something came up,” Molly said thoughtfully.

“Lying to the people who pay you?” John teased.

“I'm going to have to stop soon anyway,” she pointed out. “In another week or so rehearsals are going to last longer and I won't be able to do it twice a day, not unless people want me to take their dogs out during supper time.”

“We can leave the two of them long enough to walk them later,” Sherlock said. “I trust John not to trash my home in any way.”

“Your faith in me is well placed,” John said, grinning. “Then we'll meet you there in a bit.”

“See you soon,” Molly said as Henry picked up his things. The two of them left and Molly looked down at Sherlock. “I think that went rather well, considering.”

“It could have gone much worse,” Sherlock agreed with a nod. Then he looked up at her. “Do you really want to spend an afternoon reading my plays?”

“I do,” she said, sitting next to him. “You really are talented. Everyone in this production would agree. If you've written anything else even remotely as good as this play I think that reading those plays will be an excellent way to spend an unexpected early work day.”

He reached over for her hand and grasped it tightly. “If you're sure.”

“I am.” She looked around, and once she was absolutely sure they were alone she leaned over and kissed him softly. He kissed her back, letting go of her hand to caress her face lightly. When they pulled apart she gave him a warm smile. “Come on. Let's not leave John and Henry waiting long. That would be incredibly rude of us.”

“I suppose,” he said with a grin. She stood up first and suddenly he reached over for her, pulling her down on his lap. She looked at him as she laughed. “I don't think we'll get much time alone today. I want a few minutes more.”

“I can do that,” she said quietly before she leaned in and kissed him again. She hadn't expected both of those secrets to come out to any more people, but she had to admit that it felt nice, having someone else knowing. She just hoped it didn't bite both of them in the arse at a later date.


	8. Chapter 8

Rehearsals flew by the next week as everyone began getting ready for the rehearsals being extended. The reporter had indeed come to observe the day after Henry and John found out the truth about the play and he had talked to the two of them and Sherlock. Irene kept attempting to get him to talk to her but he brushed her off, which made Irene even more angry. But overall Molly found that the experience of being watched and interviewed for a major magazine to be pleasant, and she hoped that when the article ran she would read it and enjoy what was being said about her. She was fairly sure it would be mostly flattering.

It was Saturday afternoon now, and the bachelor auction would be that evening. He and Molly were curled up on his sofa, attempting to watch a movie. Normally in situations like this they were distracted for other reasons, but today was different. She knew that tonight some woman was going to get an entire day with him and he'd have to act as though he was enjoying himself when they both knew he'd much rather spend the day with her. She had to admit she wasn't looking forward to it, either. “I don't want to do it,” Sherlock said with a sigh. “I can't believe Lestrade roped me into it.”

“If I had the money I would start a spectacular bidding war for you,” she said with a warm smile as she lifted her head up from his shoulder to look at him. “But I don't make nearly enough to compete with the wealthy women who will be there.”

“Well, at least you'll be there, though I can imagine it's going to be unpleasant for you.”

“I'm there to publicly support John and Henry,” she said. “But you're right. It won't be pleasant watching other women try and get a date with you.”

“It won't be a date,” he said adamantly. “They'll get my undivided attention for a day, but it won't be a date. If the woman tries to kiss me or do anything like that I'll end it immediately. I don't care if I have to refund them their money personally. I only go on dates with you.”

Her smile widened slightly. “That does make me feel better.”

“What would you do if you did win me?”

She thought for a moment. “It would be nice to feel as though we could actually go out in public, like on a normal date. I mean, the one where you tried to impress me changed when you spotted Irene at the restaurant, but if I had you for the day we could do that and not worry about anyone spotting us because I'd have won your time.”

“And would you want me to impress you?” he asked quietly.

“I think I'd just like to explore London with you, and then come back here and relax afterward. You really don't need to impress me, I promise.” She leaned in. “You've already rather swept me off my feet.”

“I have?” he asked, giving her a grin.

“Don't act coy. You know you have,” she said with a laugh. “I like you quite a bit.”

“I like you quite a bit too,” he said, getting a more serious look on his face. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “How long until you need to leave to get ready?”

“An hour or so. I want to look my best so Sally's going to fix my hair and do my make-up. Did you know she used to be a stylist?”

“I never knew that,” he said.

She nodded slightly. “Her mother worked with many famous people and she taught Sally the trade. She had been helping her mother since she was twelve and when she grew up she decided that was what she wanted to do. But then she started talking to the actors and such that she was working on and the more she learned about the agent's sides of things the more it appealed to her. So she stopped being a stylist and became an agent, and she's gone after it with the same kind of determination she does everything else with. I'm glad she represents me.”

“Well, I still have to thank her for not ignoring my request for you to audition for this play, even if I didn't actually make the request as myself,” he said.

“If I hadn't auditioned, what would you have done?” she asked.

“I would have started eating at Simone's every time you were at work,” he said with a slight laugh. “And I would have made sure Mrs. Hudson had you waiting on me until I could get you comfortable around me. Then I would have asked you out.”

“I liked the way it actually worked out much better. I really do adore this play, and John and Henry have become such good friends to me.” She moved closer to him. “So thank you for taking an interest in me.”

“You're very welcome,” he murmured before leaning in and kissing her softly. She kissed him back, trying to enjoy it as much as she usually did, but in the back of her mind she was worrying about tonight. She really didn't want to watch all the women bid on him. She wanted him all to herself, and some other women was going to get a day of his time and she'd have to stay at home and worry about what she would try and do. And she knew for a fact that Irene was going to be there tonight. Even though she treated everyone badly, even Sherlock, she could easily bid on him and then be her normal demanding self and not take no for an answer. She didn't want to think about that. He pulled away after a few moments and looked at her. “Your mind is elsewhere,” he said simply.

She nodded. “I just don't want to share you, that's all. Especially with Irene, if she decides to outbid everyone on you.”

“If I thought I could finance your bid I'd have you outbid every woman in the room. But that's against the rules of this bachelor auction,” he said with a sigh.

“Maybe I shouldn't go,” she replied.

“Please come,” he said. “I know it will be hard, but I'd much rather have you there then endure it alone.”

She looked at him intently, and then nodded. “All right. I'll go.”

“Thank you.” She set her head back on his shoulder and he put his arm around her and they attempted to watch the movie. An hour later it came time for her to leave, and with a final kiss goodbye she left his home and made her way to Sally's flat with a heavy heart. She really _really_ didn't want to do this tonight. She would much rather stay home than put herself through the torture, but he had asked and she didn't want to say no to him. She knocked on Sally's door and waited for Sally to answer. It opened and Sally gave her a concerned look. “Hello,” she said glumly.

“Oh, you're really miserable, aren't you?” Sally said quietly.

“I really don't want to go tonight,” Molly said with a sigh as Sally moved out of the way for her to come in. “I'm going to have to sit there and watch all these women bid on him and then one of them who isn't me is going to win him.” She sighed. “But he wants me to be there, as moral support.”

“I'm sorry,” Sally said soothingly. “But it's only one day. After that he's yours again.”

“I keep telling myself that,” she said dejectedly.

“Well, if nothing else I’ll make sure you look smashing,” she replied, shutting the door behind Molly once she had come in. She reached over and gave her friend a hug which she returned. When they pulled apart Sally looked at her. “Can I say something that might not be the nicest thing in the world?” she asked cautiously.

“I suppose,” Molly said.

Sally hesitated for a moment. “It sounds as though Sherlock is being a bit selfish. I mean, John and Henry would probably understand if you don’t want to be there. And if you plead sick I bet Greg would let you off the hook. But Sherlock is insisting you be there, and that’s a bit insensitive.”

Molly was quiet for a moment. “I suppose it is,” she said finally.

“I don’t think he’s that way all the time,” Sally replied. “But sometimes when you talk about your relationship I get that feeling. It wouldn’t be anything I’d worry about, not really. I don’t think he’s going to become a possessive jealous arsehole that treats you like dirt, but maybe he needs some reminding that relationships are all about give and take, and he shouldn’t take so much, even if he’s not meaning to.”

“It has been a long time for him,” Molly pointed out.

“I know. I’m keeping that in mind. So maybe a gentle reminder is in order. I think he’d take it well enough because I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it.” Sally gave her a sympathetic smile. “And if he doesn’t take it well then he’s not worth your time. He did make you a deal that if you couldn’t finish the production he’d find you another part somewhere else.”

“But if I break up with him I doubt he’ll want anything to do with me, and I don’t think he’d do anything to help further my career. Plus that article is going to come out about me. If we break up I’ll just suffer through the rest of the production and then we can part and I won’t let him influence my life anymore. I am a good enough actress to pretend I love someone when they broke my heart.”

“But you don’t want to break up with him,” Sally said gently.

“No, I don’t. He makes me happy, honest. He has a few faults, but I do, too. I’m not exactly a shining example of a person who has functional relationships. We’re both learning to do this after a long time of _not_ being in relationships, and I’m not expecting perfection.”

Sally studied her for a moment. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she said finally.

Molly sighed. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Then talk to him. Tell him you love him but he’s being a bit selfish and he needs to fix that before it gets worse. I think if he knows it’s coming from the fact you love him and you want to stay with him he’ll take it much better.”

“You really think so?” Molly asked.

“I’m fairly sure,” Sally said with a smile. “I mean, not that my love life is anything to write home about.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Molly said before they made their way towards Sally’s bedroom.

“You know I told you I’ve been chatting with Henry, right?” Sally asked. Molly nodded. “I like him. Like, I’m quite attracted to him. And I don’t think he sees me as anything more than a friend. And that’s an incredibly depressing thought.”

“I don’t know. He seems to be in a very good mood after the two of you have a conversation,” Molly said thoughtfully as they entered Sally’s bedroom. “Have you tried asking him if he fancies you?”

“In a roundabout way,” sally said as Molly sat down in the chair in front of Sally’s vanity. “But either I’m being too subtle or he just doesn’t have that kind of interest in me.”

“Too bad you can’t bid on him at the auction,” she said thoughtfully.

“I don’t have a ticket, and I doubt they’ll let you bring a plus one,” Sally pointed out.

Molly thought for a moment and then her eyes widened as she remembered something. "They'll be having phone bidding!” Molly said. “You could always phone in a bid. I can find the number for you.”

“I do have quite a bit of money saved up,” Sally said thoughtfully. “If the bidding doesn’t go too high I can try.”

“Then you should,” Molly said with a nod. “Maybe both of us can solve our guy problems tonight.”

“I hope so,” Sally said with a nod. “All right. Ready to look spectacular?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Molly said, giving her friend a grin. Once again she knew it was all a front, but maybe if she was lucky things would turn out well after all. She should hope for the best instead of expecting the worst. She just hoped she could.


	9. Chapter 9

Molly got out of the car that had been called for her and looked around nervously. Ordinarily she would have come from home and shared a car with John and Sherlock but since she had been at Sally's flat she was on the opposite side of town from home. Her friends had said they would be waiting outside for her, but she was running late and at the moment she couldn't see them. She smoothed down the front of her dress, a sapphire blue floor length dress that Sally had picked up for her to wear to the event that evening, and resisted the urge to mess with her hair, which was curled and pulled away from her face. She made her way closer to the building, looking around nervously. Finally she spotted Henry off to the side, smoking a cigarette. “Henry!” she called over.

He looked in her direction and grinned, dropping the unfinished cigarette and grinding it out on the pavement. “We were worried you weren't going to show up,” he said as she got closer. “John and I would have understood if you'd just decided to stay home.”

“I wanted to,” she said with a sigh. “I really wanted to. But Sherlock asked me to come for moral support.”

“Huh,” he said, his voice full of surprise. “I'd have expected him to be more understanding that this was going to be hard for you.”

“Well, he asked and I didn't want to say no. And besides, the entire cast is here. It looks bad if one of the stars stays home.” He looked away. “Henry?” she asked.

“Irene's the only other one here,” he said quietly.

“What? I thought Greg wanted the entire cast here,” she said incredulously. “So I could have skipped this and no one would have said anything?”

“Probably,” he said. “Look, I know you don't really want to be here but let's see if we can make the night enjoyable. You look too stunning to let it all go to waste.”

Even though she was irritated she gave him a small smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Henry,” she said.

“It's not flattery. It's stating a fact,” he said with his own grin. Then he offered her his arm. “John and Sherlock are already inside.”

“I'm surprised they didn't wait,” she said with a frown.

“There were reporters who wanted to talk to us. My part is smaller than theirs so I was able to sneak out and wait for you. None of us thought it would be right for you to come in alone.” He nodded towards the building. “We should get inside. I'm sure the reporters will want to talk to you as well.”

“Wonderful,” she murmured. They made their way closer to the crowd of people entering the building, and she plastered a smile on her face. As soon as they were inside and people noticed she was there they flocked over to her. As she smiled and chatted with the people who wanted to meet her and the reporters who were asking her questions she realized the article written about her had already run. She was surprised that so many people were taking an interest in her. She couldn't possibly be that interesting, she thought to herself.

After forty minutes she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and saw Sherlock standing there, giving her a grin. “I apologize for intruding, but it's almost time for the auction to start. I think Molly needs to get to her seat now.” The reporters and well-wishers nodded and one by one they quickly began to leave until finally it was just her and Sherlock. “I'm sorry I wasn't out there to walk in with you.”

“I was running late,” she said, shaking her head. “I understand.”

“Still, that wasn't very gentlemanly of me.” He looked at her appreciatively. “I think you look even more stunning than you did when you dressed up for our date.”

She blushed, casting a quick glance around to make sure no one heard him. “You shouldn't say that so loud.”

“Well, it's the truth,” he said. “I'm glad you came tonight. I know you really don't want to be here.”

“Especially since I found out no one else is, really,” she said glumly. “This makes me very vexed.”

“I'll find a way to make it up to you,” he murmured as a reporter came up with a camera. Sherlock placed a hand at the small of her back as she pasted another smile on her face. The reporter asked them a few questions as they got their picture taken, and then they were left in peace. “We should make our way to the table now.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. He kept his hand on her back as he led the way to the dining area. Her heart sank as she saw all the women who were in attendance. She knew not everyone there was going to bid on Sherlock but she hadn't expected so many of them to be there. It was going to be pure hell tonight, she realized. She was certainly going to prove her worth as an actress by acting as though she was pleased to be there. He guided them to a table and she saw it was mostly empty, save for an older couple and Lestrade. “Which seat is mine?” she asked Lestrade.

“That one,” he said with a grin, pointing to the one across from him. “You look quite lovely tonight, Molly.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. She sat down and looked up at Sherlock. “Aren't you going to sit down?”

He shook his head. “I'm to be up on the stage with the other bachelors,” he said. “And as far as I know I'm the biggest draw so I'll be the last one standing.” He leaned down, putting his lips by her ear. “As I said, I'll make this up to you,” he murmured.

“It's all right,” she said softly.

“Still. Let me try.” He straightened up again. “I'll see all of you again eventually.”

“Good luck,” she said, giving him a faint smile. He gave her a wider one in return and she watched him walk over to the stage as her smile dimmed considerably. After a moment she turned and looked at Lestrade, grinning more widely even though she felt miserable. “I'm sorry I'm one of the few who showed up.”

“It's all right,” he said. “I know you really don't want to be here. I'm just thankful you came.”

“Why wouldn't I want to be here?” she asked with a frown.

“I saw the way Sherlock was close to you as you approached. I've observed the way he's looked at you at rehearsals when he doesn't think anyone else is watching, and the way you look at him. You fancy each other, don't you?” he asked gently.

Molly looked back at Sherlock for a moment, then turned to Lestrade before nodding. “We started dating a few days before rehearsals started.”

“If he'd just told me I never would have made him do this,” he said with a sigh. “It's not fair to either of you.”

“But it's for a good cause, and it will get us a lot of publicity. I can handle a woman getting his attention for a day.”

“Still. Now I feel awful. He kept trying to talk me out of it, and I should have pressed him harder about why.” He looked over at her. “Does anyone else know?”

“John and Henry,” she replied. “John because they're friends and John and I are sharing a flat, and Henry because John and Sherlock talked about us without realizing he was there. But they're both friends of mine and they've kept it quiet because we've asked them to.”

“I'll keep it quiet as well,” Lestrade said with a grin. Then his grin turned into a frown as he looked down. He pulled out his mobile phone and looked at who was calling before standing. “I need to take this, and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to come back for the auction or the meal. Give the others my apologies?”

She nodded. “Of course,” she said.

“You really do look radiant,” he said with a grin before answering the call and putting the phone to his ear. She gave him a wide smile before he turned and left the table.

The other couple seemed to be deep in their own conversation, and she turned back to the crowd. There were at least fifteen men up on the stage of various ages. Some of them looked nervous while others looked calm and collected. Sherlock had a scowl on his face and was staring to the left, however. Molly turned and looked in that direction. Irene was sitting at one of the tables in a white dress with her hair perfectly coiffed, and whatever it was she was doing had caught Sherlock's attention. She cringed slightly, hoping no one decided to get a picture of him at the moment.

Her attention was drawn away by the knocking of a gavel on wood. The loud murmur that had enveloped the room died down to near silence as they all turned their attention to the auctioneer. He began to speak at length about the charity that was being supported tonight, and then he laid down the rules for the auction. Only women could bid, and they had to stand and declare their bid in a loud and clear voice, and there were not just the women in the room bidding but others on the bank of phones at the back of the room. Molly hoped Henry was one of the first ones auctioned off so Sally didn't have to stay on the phone forever. When he was done going over all that he officially declared that the auction had begun and began talking about the first bachelor up for bidding. Molly listened for a moment before tuning the man and the ensuing bids out.

Three other men were bid on before Henry's name was called. He stepped forward and the auctioneer told the audience a bit about Henry. Molly paid attention but she realized she already knew everything the man was saying. Bidding started at one thousand pounds, and quickly the price escalated. At fifteen thousand pounds it became apparent that it was coming down between an older woman in a peach dress and one of the bidders on the phone. She really hoped the bidder on the phone was Sally. Finally the woman in the peach dress bid twenty thousand pounds. Molly held her breath to see what the bidder on the phone had to say, and when the next bid came in at twenty-five thousand pounds she watched the woman stand silently for a moment and then sink down back into her seat without making a counter bid. Molly grinned to herself, thankful that if it really had been Sally bidding she had just gotten herself a very expensive date with the man she fancied. At least one of them had solved their men problem tonight, she thought to herself. Henry came back to his seat shortly afterward, seemingly surprised he had been bid on for so much.

John was seven men later, and the bidding war was fierce. As the amount of money being offered climbed she could see John looked absolutely shocked at how high it was going. The woman in the peach dress was bidding again, but this time there was another woman in a black dress meeting each bid and raising it by a thousand pounds. John's eyes were darting back and forth between the two women, as were everyone else's in the room. Finally the woman in peach said twenty thousand again and the woman in black countered with thirty thousand, giving the other woman a smug look. This time the woman in peach gave the woman in black a disgusted look before she plopped herself back in her seat. The woman in black looked quite victorious as she made her way to the stage with a cheque, and Molly could see her blow a kiss to John, who grinned back and winked before making his way back to their table.

Finally all of the rest of the men were done being auctioned and Sherlock was the lone bachelor on the stage. The auctioneer looked down at the notes in front of him. “And now, our final bachelor of the night, Sherlock Holmes. He is a distinguished actor, having recently been awarded an Olivier award for best actor, and is the star in the upcoming play Fortunes Changing. He is also a talented violinist and avid photographer. At the moment he has three of his photographs on display at the Russell Gallery in the heart of London in their current collection. He is very much a gentleman, and the woman lucky enough to win him tonight will definitely be in for a treat.” There was an excited murmur among the women there. He raised his gavel and banged it on the podium. “The bidding starts at one thousand pounds,” the auctioneer said.

Irene stood up quickly. “One thousand pounds,” she said, a smug look on her face as Sherlock gave her a scowl.

“Two thousand,” a woman in a turquoise dress said.

“Three thousand!” another woman, this one in a red dress, shouted.

“Five thousand,” Irene countered.

“Seven thousand,” the woman in the peach dress said.

“Bid,” Henry said, leaning towards Molly from the seat next to her.

“What?” she said back, surprised.

“He can't pay for you to bid. That doesn't mean I can't finance your bid,” he said.

“You have money?” Molly asked, her eyes wide.

“Quite a bit. Bid and don't worry how high it goes. If Irene gets him it'll be hell for all of us,” Henry said as one of the people handling phone bidders said nine thousand. “Start with ten thousand.”

Molly nodded and stood up. “Ten thousand,” she said in as firm a voice as she could.

Irene and Sherlock both looked at her in shock. “Eleven thousand,” Irene replied.

“Twelve thousand,” the same woman who was handling the earlier phone bid said.

“Thirteen thousand,” the woman in the peach dress said.

“Fifteen thousand,” Irene said, glaring at Molly.

She glanced down at Henry, who flashed all ten fingers twice. “Twenty thousand,” she said, staring up at Sherlock. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the other women who had stood begin to sit down.

“Twenty-five,” the woman in red said firmly.

“Thirty,” Irene said as she crossed her arms. She turned her stare at that woman and after a moment she sat down, leaving Irene and Molly as the only two women standing.

“Thirty-five,” Molly said.

“Fifty,” Irene countered.

Molly hesitated for a moment. “Fifty-five.”

“Sixty,” Irene said, turning to look at Molly.

Molly looked over at Henry, who nodded. “Seventy-five,” she said. The crowd began to murmur excitedly and she tried hard not to get nervous.

Irene was quiet and then an evil grin spread on her face. “One hundred thousand,” she said. The murmur of the crowd got louder at that point. Molly knew everyone was waiting in anticipation.

Molly looked down at Henry as the crowd gasped. She leaned in. “You can't possibly have that much.”

“Say one hundred and fifty,” he replied.

“Are you sure?” she asked uncertainly.

“I'm absolutely positive,” he said with a nod.

“One hundred and fifty,” Molly said loudly as she straightened up again.

“One hundred seventy-five,” Irene said smugly.

“One hundred eighty,” Molly said, beginning to get very nervous. Henry couldn't _possibly_ want to spend much more on Sherlock for her, could he?

“Two hundred thousand,” Irene said, looking at Molly with a hard stare. She looked very angry that she was having to spend so much. Molly got the feeling she hadn't planned on the bidding going this high but Irene seemed determined to win Sherlock at all costs.

Molly glanced at Henry nervously but all he did was nod. “Go as high as you need to,” he said quietly.

“Are you really sure?” she asked.

“Do you really want Irene to win?” he said. She shook her head. “Then go to two hundred and twenty-five. I get the feeling Irene won't go any higher.”

She nodded and straightened up. “Two hundred and twenty-five thousand,” she said towards the auctioneer.

“Two hundred and _seventy_ -five,” Irene countered.

Molly was beginning to panic. She had indeed gone higher, and by a lot more than she'd expected. Henry caught her attention, though, and held up three fingers. She nodded, then steeled herself. “Three hundred thousand,” she said, though not as loudly as she had made her other bids. She glanced over at Irene, who looked positively irate. She opened her mouth slightly, then closed it and sat back down in her seat.

“Three hundred thousand,” the auctioneer said. “Going once, going twice...” Then he smiled widely. “Sold to the young woman in the blue dress! And I must say, this is a new record. I think she really wants to have you all to herself, Mr. Holmes.” He chuckled slightly and Molly blushed as everyone in the room began to clap. She turned her gaze to Sherlock, who looked back at his table with the most grateful look she'd ever seen on anyone's face before giving her a wide smile. She grinned back before looking down at Henry, who had pulled a chequebook from his pocket. He wrote a cheque out and tore it off, handing it to her. She took it and made her way up to the woman collecting the money to the side, handing her the cheque. The woman smiled at her and nodded towards the auctioneer, who turned his grin to Molly.

She made her way over to the stage and waited for Sherlock to come down. “I owe Henry very much for this, don't I?” he murmured as he got close to her.

“Oh, I'm sure you'll find some way to make it up to him,” she said with a smile as they made their way back to the table.

“I doubt it. I think this debt might be too big,” he said. “But I'll attempt to show him exactly how much I appreciate it.” They made their way back to their seats as the waiters came around to serve the main course. He sat down on Molly's other side before looking over at Henry. “I owe you,” he said quietly.

“Well, it was either watch Irene win and Molly be miserable that her boyfriend had to spend a day with that harpy or fork over some money to a good cause,” Henry said with a grin. “I think I made the right choice.”

“I agree,” John said with a grin as a waiter set his serving in front of him. “I mean, we'll have to listen to Irene stew about it for the next few weeks, which means rehearsals will be hell, but it would be worse to watch Molly be depressed.”

Molly laughed softly. “I'm just glad I have a good friend with a lot of money,” she said, leaning over to kiss Henry's cheek. “I'll make this up to you.”

“Just promise me you'll do well in the role so we all get accolades and all of us get nominated for many awards,” he said with a chuckle.

“I'll do my best.”

Henry was going to respond when he frowned. Molly turned and saw Irene stand up at her table, grabbing her clutch. She still looked very angry at being outbid. She left her table and made her way to theirs, making a beeline for Molly. When she got to her side she spoke. “I suspected there was something going on between you two,” she said, glaring down at Molly as she spoke. “This was proof.”

“She's my girlfriend,” Sherlock said, looking at Irene defiantly. “She had every right to bid on me to keep your grubby hands off of me.”

She turned her glare at him. “I hope she's worth it, Sherlock. Because she's just a no talent strumpet who's caught your fancy temporarily. When you finally wise up you'll realize what you could have had, and when you do I'll laugh in your face.”

“Well, you'll be waiting an awfully long time,” he said. “Because I abhor you and even if my relationship with Molly ends you'll be the last person I turn to. I think you're nothing more than a parasitic leech with a little talent, and one day you're going to attach yourself to the wrong person and it's going to cost you more than you're willing to pay.”

Irene straightened up as much as she possibly could. “You are an absolute beast. Enjoy her while you can because I think things will start to get very hard for you both.”

“Just remember that I'm one of the producers and I outrank Anderson even if you have him wrapped around your little finger,” he said quietly.

She leaned in more. “That wasn't what I was talking about,” she hissed. “I know people who are willing to do many things because I ask them to.”

Sherlock looked up at her sharply. “If any harm comes to those I am close to, especially Molly, I will ensure that you regret it.”

“By taking my career away?” she scoffed. “You may think you can do that but you can't. I have allies.”

“And you've also left enemies in your wake. It's just a matter of getting all of them to be more vocal and drown out your so-called allies. And I think I can gather up enough to do just that.”

“Then I'll ruin this play. I'll make sure all of you are laughingstocks by the time the run is finished.”

“You ruin this play it reflects badly on you too,” John pointed out.

Irene turned her glare to John. “You stay out of it, _John_.”

“On the contrary,” John said, pushing his plate away and folding his hands on the table as he looked up at her. “While Sherlock threatens your livelihood I'm just going to threaten you. Hurt Molly or go after any of us and I will not hesitate to ruin your life just as much, starting with a book detailing your many exploits and the way you're a primadonna who's quickly going past her prime. And I'll write it in a way that will make _you_ the laughingstock.”

“No one will publish that,” she scoffed.

“You know I've written them before, and I'll probably keep writing them when money's tight,” he said with a shrug. “I doubt my editor would turn his nose up at another salacious tell-all.”

“You wouldn't,” she said quietly.

John looked at her intently. “Try me. And if you sick your agent on any of us we'll make sure he's ruined as well. All of us have ways of protecting each other and knocking you down three or four pegs at the same time. You'll find you crossed the wrong group of people this time.”

Irene looked at all of them, and Sherlock and Henry nodded. Then she turned back to Molly. “Well, it seems as though you have a group of devoted knight protectors. I think you're going to need them.” She leaned in closer to Molly. “I just hope he's worth it, because after this play your career is over,” she said quietly. “I'll guarantee it.” Then she straightened and turned, leaving their table and heading out of the room.

“The joys of spirited discussion with Irene Adler,” Sherlock said with a sigh. Then he turned to Molly. “I'm sorry. For all of this, really.”

“Please don't be sorry about us,” she replied, reaching for his hand. She grasped it and squeezed lightly. “We'll all get through this and she'll get hers.”

“I hope so,” he replied.

She gave him a reassuring grin and then leaned over to kiss his cheek. He gave her a faint smile back, and she supposed she should feel better that she didn't have to share him with another woman, especially Irene, but the threats Irene issued felt very real suddenly. Irene could very well ruin not just her career over this but her entire life, especially when she told Jim about tonight. She was starting to get worried, and no amount of reassurances from Sherlock or her friends would make her feel any better until the worst was over.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been a horrendous day at rehearsals on Monday, especially since now they were lasting longer as they got more into the blocking for the play. Irene was throwing a snit fit in regards to the bachelor auction. She had informed everyone in the cast who hadn't been there of the fact that Sherlock and Molly were dating, but apparently it had only surprised Anderson. A few of the other cast members had reacted with a “So what?” attitude, and that rubbed Irene the wrong way. She disappeared during their lunch break and when rehearsals resumed she was nowhere to be seen. Anderson tried to limp along without her, but after two hours he called rehearsals to an end. Molly went back to her things and stowed her script. “I can't believe she did that,” she said to John with a sigh.

“I can. She did threaten to ruin the play, after all. I think she might actually follow through.” He looked over at her. “If she pulls stunts like this often enough Sherlock can push to have her kicked out of the cast, though. It doesn't matter how big a name she has, if she makes things hard and it starts affecting the bottom line she'll be gone.”

“I suppose,” she said quietly. She glanced over at Sherlock, who was speaking with Anderson. It did not look like it was a pleasant conversation. “I suppose we should wait for him.”

“Well, it's not like the two of you need me to tag along with you for appearances sake anymore,” he said with a grin.

“Still, you're a friend. It would be nice to spend some time with a friend while I wait.” She sat down in the chair by her purse and John sat next to her. “I meant to ask last night. You said you've published those kinds of tell-alls you threatened to write about her before. I didn't know you'd written one at all, but...how many have you written?”

“Six,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. “All under a pseudonym, of course, but Irene knew about it already. That was how we'd first met. I was getting gossip from her for a book, and we got to talking about acting. If she hadn't been so hell bent on trying to use me to further her own career we could have been friends.” He paused. “Or friendly, at the very least.”

“Did the two of you...?” she asked, trailing off.

He nodded. “I am one of those enemies left in her wake, as Sherlock said. It didn't last very long and it didn't hurt either of my careers, really, but that's why we dislike each other so much. When it became apparent she no longer had a use for me she tossed me aside. Not that I minded all that much, though. I'd started to get very tired of her and her attitude. I'm just thankful she looked at it as a fling and nothing more serious, and I'm glad I had the same point of view on the whole affair.”

“Ah,” she said with a nod. “I can't imagine you two like that.”

“Well, Sherlock doesn't know,” he said with a shrug. “It happened long before I met him. Though I suppose more people will find out eventually. Now that she has to deal with me on a day-to-day basis and she can't escape me she'll make sure word gets around. And she'll probably try and insult my manhood on top of it.”

“She really is vile,” Molly said, shaking her head.

“She used to not be this way. I'd catch glimpses of her being normal and nice and...loving. Not very often, but sometimes. And then it would be gone and I'd start to wonder if it had ever been there in the first place. Whatever influenced her in her life left its mark, and it left her very damaged.”

“I'm wondering if I should start to feel sorry for her,” she replied with a frown.

“I wouldn't. She's probably ground out all traces of being a decent human being years ago.” Then he flashed her a grin. “Enough about her. Given any thought on how you're going to enjoy your day with Sherlock? I mean, Greg is giving us all Friday off so those of us who got bid on can have their dates. Now that you and Sherlock don't have to sneak around I'm sure he'll do everything he can to impress you.”

“I really just want to explore the city, do things I don't normally do and go places I haven't been before. And then I just want to go back to his home and curl up and watch a movie with him.”

“Well, I've been getting texts all day from Mary,” he said with a grin.

“Is she annoying you?” Molly asked, slightly concerned.

“Actually, no. She's really quite funny, and nearly every text gives me a bit of a laugh. She wants to do something similar to you, but she wants to end up at a comedy club during amateur night. She hasn't said whether she's going to be the amateur that night or I am, though.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” she said with a smile. “She seemed very pleasant when she joined us at the table for dessert.”

“She is quite pleasant. I think I'll end up having an enjoyable day. Probably more than Henry. He doesn't even know who bid on him.”

Molly's eyes sparkled. “I know who did,” she said

“Who?” John asked, turning to face her.

“My friend Sally. They talked for quite a while when he was seeing if she would be a good agent for him. He told her even if he didn't choose her agency he really enjoyed their conversation and he'd like to have more. They've talked a few times since but he never made a move to actually ask her out. So when I told her how there would be proxies placing bids over the phone she decided she would try because maybe then he'd realize she's actually interested in him. I just didn't realize she had that much money. I mean, twenty-five thousand pounds is quite a bit.”

“She must really be enamored with him,” John said with a chuckle.

“I think she is. It probably means she'll remove her offer to take him on as a client, but she will at least find a better agent for him than Jim. And in all honesty I think he'd rather accept a date from her than her services. He seemed to be in a very good mood when he talked to me about their last conversation.”

“Good for them, then,” he said with a wide smile that quickly turned into a frown as Sherlock pulled away from his rapidly deteriorating conversation with Anderson to come over to them. “Is this going to take a while?” he asked.

Sherlock nodded. “It's time to throw my weight around. We're having a meeting, Anderson and Lestrade and I. It's probably going to take some time. You two should head home. I can meet you there later.”

Molly nodded. “All right.” She stood and gathered her things before moving to Sherlock and kissing him softly. It was very nice that she could do this in public now, she realized. “Don't yell too loudly.”

“I'm not going to yell. I'm just going to intimidate.”

“You get what I mean,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Any idea when this meeting will be over?”

“None. If it goes past five just assume I won't be joining the two of you for supper or possibly at all and just relax. Lestrade and I need to be stressed over this, not anyone else.”

“Easier said than done, mate,” John said as he stood up. “We're going to worry anyway.” He moved over to Sherlock's side and clapped his shoulder. “I'll take Molly home and we'll wait for you there.”

“Thank you,” he said with a nod. He looked over at Molly. “I will call you later, I promise.”

“All right,” she said with a nod as she gathered her things. After that Sherlock went back to Anderson and she and John watched for a moment as Lestrade joined them. At that point they made their way to the front of the theatre and left. John hailed them a cab and they got in, giving the driver their address. “I get the feeling things will only get worse before they get better, if they do at all,” she said glumly.

“You have to at least have hope,” John said, reaching over to take her hand. “It can't last forever, and you can bounce back from whatever she throws at you.”

“But what if I can't?” she asked, turning to look at him. “What if she absolutely ruins my life?”

“Then I'll ruin hers while I help you pick up the pieces of yours. And Henry and Sherlock will do the same thing. You just have to have faith in us.”

“I'm trying but I'm quite frightened,” she said quietly.

“Well, be as strong as you can. We can always lend you our own strength.” He gave her a reassuring smile and she gave him a faint one back, and they made their way home in relative silence. John caught that the front door was ajar before Molly did. “Wait here in the cab,” he said once they pulled up to their home and he got out.

“No way. I'm not letting you go in there alone,” Molly said, clambering out after him. “What if they're still in there?”

“Then stay behind me. If I let you get hurt Sherlock would be very cross with me and I'd never forgive myself.”

She nodded as they made their way to the door. It appeared the door had been jimmied open, and John pushed it open wide enough for them to come in. Already she could tell the place looked trashed and her heart sank. She did not want to go to her room any time soon. They checked the sitting room and saw that furniture was destroyed and things were scattered about, torn and tattered. John made his way to his room and found it had been ransacked and his clothes had been ripped and shredded. “This doesn't bode well for my room,” Molly said dejectedly.

“No, it doesn't,” he said quietly. “Let's go check now.” She nodded and they turned to head back to the sitting room and her room. They got to the door and John opened it. Two men in ski masks were inside, destroying her possessions. “Hey!” he shouted.

The men looked up, and Molly thought they might be shocked. Then they bolted to the door. The first man pushed John down, and even though Molly tried to get out of their way one of them grabbed her. “She's the one,” the man who had a fierce grip on her arm said. “We have a message for you.”

“Please, let me go,” she pleaded as the man raised back his fist. He slammed it into her face and Molly's head snapped to the side. It was a strong blow and already it hurt. Then he shoved her down hard towards the ground. The two men ran towards the front door as Molly landed hard. She felt immense pain shoot through her wrist, but she was in so much shock that something like this had happened that she ignored the pain.

John scrambled up. “They hurt you,” he said grimly.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“I'm going to destroy her for this. And that Moriarty character too.” He offered her a hand, and with her good wrist she used it to pull herself up. He turned her face and winced slightly. “You'll need stitches and you're going to have a shiner.”

“I hurt my wrist, too,” she said quietly, cradling it slightly.

“I'm calling Sherlock,” he said, pulling out his phone. She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand and she closed her mouth and waited until his conversation was done. He hung up and looked at her. “He's going to inform Mrs. Hudson of what happened and then we're to pack bags of whatever is salvageable and go to his home. But first we're taking you to the hospital.”

“I can't believe this happened,” she said. “Do we know she was behind it?”

“No, we don't, but it's a very valid guess,” he replied. “She's the one who threatened to make us pay. Sherlock said she gets one more chance to keep her part, but if she messes up she's done for. And Lestrade has guaranteed she'll be blacklisted from as many productions as possible if she causes problems for this one.”

She nodded, then made her way into her room. It wasn't as messed up as it could have been, but it still hurt to see. She'd already lost so much the last time this had happened and had only really started to feel as though she'd gotten over that, and now it had happened again. She looked into her closet dejectedly, and then moved to her drawers. “I think they got to most of my clothes,” she said with a sigh.

“We'll see about replacing things,” he said as he stood behind her.

“They're just things, I suppose,” she said quietly.

“No. They were things that meant a lot to you,” he said. “And you've already had this happen to you once. You shouldn't have to go through it again.” He moved over to her and put an arm around her shoulder before guiding her out of the room. “Come on. Let's get you checked out.”

She nodded and let him take her out of their home. They made their way to the hospital in silence, and after a while they were joined by a policeman who asked for all the details. Sherlock joined them shortly after the policemen got there, and then they all went back to his home when the doctor and the policeman were done with them. He let them in and watched Molly closely as she cradled her broken wrist in her good hand. “I hate to say it, but Irene wasn't behind this,” he said quietly.

“How do you know?” John asked.

He shrugged slightly. “She waltzed into the theatre shortly before you called. She'd had an afternoon tryst with the producer of another play that had gone on for quite a while. I assume he was the man we saw her with at the restaurant. Lestrade knows him and while the man didn't want to admit it at first since he's married he finally admitted they had been together from thirty minutes into our lunch break until thirty minutes before she joined the three of us in the middle of our argument. Lestrade said he isn't the type of man to lie for anyone, even his mistress. She was still there when you called and she actually looked shocked when I told the others what had happened.”

“So that leaves Jim,” Molly said quietly as she sank down on Sherlock's sofa.

Sherlock nodded, moving to sit next to her. “Yes, it does.”

“But why?” she asked, turning to look at him. “I mean, I've never tried to have him brought up on charges. I've never gone after him even though I know he did it. Why would he do this now?”

“A lot has changed in the last few years, according to the Detective Inspector who came to talk to the two of you,” he said. “He's made some very interesting friends and done a lot of things to ensure the clients he likes the most get their pick of acting gigs. Violence is one of those things, as is intimidation. There has never really been anything tying him to it directly, though. Anyone who is caught and has to talk doesn't admit it was Moriarty that made them do it, but everyone knows. He's got power now, and he'll use it like a bludgeon.”

“So really, there isn't anything we can do to stop him,” John said with a sigh.

Sherlock shook his head. “No, there might be. But it hinges on finding a way to get someone to rat him out. There has to be someone involved in this who will speak up.”

“But then you'd need proof,” Molly said before standing up and pacing. “I should just quit. Let Irene have the part. Then maybe he'll stop. You made me a deal, Sherlock. I can't do this anymore. I can't stay in this play.”

Sherlock was up quickly, standing in her path. He put out his hands to place them on her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. She looked up at him and she could feel herself on the verge of tears. “At least let me try and do something. I know I made you a deal but I really want you to stay in this part.”

“And what is it going to cost me the next time he tries something, hmm?” she asked angrily, trying not to cry. “I've already lost my possessions twice because of him and I don't feel safe in my own home anymore, and to top it off they hurt me. What else do I have to lose, Sherlock? My dignity? My life? What else can he take from me?”

“I won't let it get that far,” he said.

“But look how far it's already gotten, Sherlock. I've lost all my possessions _again_ and I've been injured. It's a bad idea if I stay in this production. I know you know it's going to get worse before the play is performed in front of an audience, and yet you keep insisting I stay. You're being incredibly selfish about all of this, you really are. And I'm not sure I can handle that, not now.” She moved away from him. “I want to go lay down. Which room is mine?”

“Molly...” Sherlock began.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “Don't. Not right now. If you don't tell me which room is mine for now I'll go stay at a hotel somewhere. But I can't deal with this at the moment. I need space.”

He looked at her, defeated, and then he sighed. “The one on the left, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” she said with a nod. She turned away from the two of them and went up the stairs, moving to the room on the left. She didn't bother turning the light on or climbing underneath the blankets and sheets. She just laid down on the bed, curled up on her side, and began to cry. She pulled a pillow close and began to sob into it. She cried until she had no tears left, and then she felt so exhausted that she just fell asleep.

It was dark when she finally woke up again. Her throat felt raw and she felt drained, emotionally and physically, but she was hungry and she wanted a cold glass of water as well. She opened the door and then made her way back down the stairs. There was one light on, and she could see Sherlock standing by one of the windows, looking out at it. It looked as though he had a glass in his hand, but it was too dark to see what was in it. She made it all the way down the stairs when he realized she was there. “You're right. I was being selfish. I've been being selfish quite frequently, even though I haven't meant to,” he said quietly, though he didn't turn to look at her as he spoke. “I'm sorry.”

“It's all right, Sherlock,” she said with a sigh, moving closer.

“No, it's not. You raised very valid points. If you want to leave the production I should honor my end of the deal. I'll help you find another part.” He lifted up his glass and took a drink. “As it stands, I doubt any of us will actually perform this play in front of an audience. I've told Lestrade that if you leave the production I will as well.”

“But why?” she asked, surprised. “This is your play, your passion project. This is something you've always wanted to see performed. If I leave and you leave no one will ever touch it again.” She moved over towards him, standing next to him. “Please don't make a decision like that.”

“I want to do this play with you, Molly. When I wrote the play I envisioned someone like you in the part, someone kind and loving but with a steely determination underneath. Not someone like Irene. I don't want to do it with Irene, and that's what will happen if you leave. I know she didn't have anything directly to do with today but it was her desire for your part that started all of this. If she wins and I stay I'll think less of myself and I'll grow to hate her for it even more than I already do. And I'll probably drive you away as well. I'll lose you twice.”

She reached over and took the glass out of his hand, setting it on the windowsill. Then she stepped in front of him, reaching up to touch his face gently. “I may not ever see this version of the play performed but I won't leave you, Sherlock. It's just a part in a play. I love you too much to let you push me away over it.”

He looked at her intently. “Did you mean that?” he asked quietly.

“Mean what?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“That you love me.”

She looked back at him just as intently before nodding. “I did. I mean, I do.”

“Even after all of this?”

“Yes, even after all of this.”

He moved his hands to pull her closer to him before kissing her softly. She kissed him back, and then when he finally ended the kiss she saw he had shut his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Really?” she said, a smile on her face.

“Really,” he said, grinning back at her. He kept her very close to him. “I have for a little while, I suppose. I just didn't know if you felt the same way so I said nothing. I should have told you earlier.”

“It's all right,” she said. “I was doing the same thing.”

“You really are one of the best things in my life. I am very glad I met you, even if you don't stay in the production. I think my life would be a good deal less bright without you in it.”

“I feel the same way,” she said. She moved to wrap her arms around his waist “Let me think about things for a bit. I promise I won't make any decisions now.”

“I can accept that,” he said with a slight nod before resting his chin on top of her head.

She was quiet for a moment. “I would really rather not sleep alone tonight. I think the only reason I slept earlier was I cried myself to sleep.”

“I can sleep next to you and nothing has to happen,” he said quietly.

“Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed him again. Even with everything going wrong, even with all of the worries she had swimming around in her head, at least she knew now that what she had with Sherlock would withstand things no matter how hard it got. That would help her peace of mind greatly and would be something to bring her comfort in what she feared would be trying times ahead.


	11. Chapter 11

Molly woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window. Sunlight never came in her window, or at least not that brightly. Then she remembered she wasn't at home, wasn't in her bedroom. Her bedroom was an absolute mess right now, torn apart and vandalized. Her heart sank for a moment because she had managed to forget for a little while that she'd been violated like that. She knew eventually she'd have to go home and deal with the clean-up and start replacing things like her clothes, but for right now she could put it off for a bit. 

She blinked a time or two before rolling over onto her back. She was honestly surprised she was able to; Sherlock's arm was locked around her waist. Under other circumstances she'd be pleased to be sharing a bed with her boyfriend even if nothing had happened. She'd been sleeping alone for so long that she'd honestly forgotten how nice it felt to share a bed with someone else. She would have enjoyed it a lot more if the reason she was at his home was because she wanted to be there, not because she needed to be there. Her home was probably still a crime scene at this point, and even when it was all cleaned up she didn't know if she wanted to go back. That hurt more than anything else. She sighed and shut her eyes again. She hadn't wanted things to happen like this, not at all.

“I see you're awake,” she heard Sherlock say quietly. She'd been sleeping with her back to his chest and she hadn't glanced over at him when she woke up. She rolled back onto her side, facing him this time. He looked over at her, giving her a small grin. “You slept surprisingly well last night.”

“I think it was because I wasn't sleeping alone,” she said, giving him a faint grin back. “That helped a lot.”

“If you want to do this more often while you're here I wouldn't object,” he replied. “I forgot what it was like to sleep next to someone else.”

“I did too,” she said. “Though I imagine since it was more recently for me than you you probably enjoyed it more.”

“To be honest, my fiancée and I usually slept on opposite sides of the bed. I think it's been nearly thirteen years since I've slept that closely to someone,” he said after thinking a moment. “Once she had her hooks into me I don't think she needed to pretend she actually wanted to be close to me. I was too infatuated with her to really complain, though.”

“You haven't really talked about her,” she said. “And it's okay if you don't want to today, but I'd like to know sometime. I mean, I don't ever want you to think I'm like her.”

He was quiet for a moment. “What do you want to know?” he asked finally.

“Well, what was her name?” she asked.

“Laura. Laura Elizabeth Covington.”

Molly's eyes widened. “The heiress?”

He nodded. “Our grandmothers were good friends. They both had sons so there was no way that they could join the families together through marriage, and for a long while no one thought the Covingtons would have a child at all. Mycroft was already ten when I was born. Laura was born a year later, and our grandmothers began engineering a match between the two of us. All of our parents went along with it.”

“That must have been stifling,” she said.

He began to run a hand up and down her waist. “Well, she was always quite pretty. As soon as I realized what it was like to fancy someone I fancied her. And now I know she took full advantage of it. She would come visit me on television and movie sets and ostensibly be there to keep me company but would in reality be there for the people who were more famous than me. As we got older and she got more beautiful she would use me to make other boys jealous. She used me from a very young age but I was too blind to see it.”

“I'm so sorry,” she said softly.

“When I first found out about her and David I couldn't believe it. As I said, when it came to her I was completely blind. I thought they just got on well. I just didn't quite realize how much.”

“How did you find out?”

“A month before the wedding I had been out of town for a special performance of 'Othello' that took me to Ireland, but it ended two days early. I came home to surprise her and I found them in bed together. They didn't even try and offer excuses. In fact, Laura got downright cruel about it. She had said maybe it was best if I found out now so I wouldn't be disappointed when we actually got married. I told her if she thought we were still getting married she was off her rocker. I got my bags and packed up as much as I could and walked out even as they stayed in the bed.”

“You must have been humiliated,” she said sympathetically.

He nodded slightly. “I was. And she had the gall to tell everyone that everything was fine and she'd sort it out when I began telling people the wedding was off. She honestly believed I'd still marry her out of familial duty. She was sadly mistaken.” He paused for a moment. “My grandmother didn't speak to me for a year over this, but finally my grandfather got her to see reason and we reconciled. Still, the relationship between our families has been strained ever since.”

She moved closer to him. “I promise I will never hurt you like that, Sherlock. Ever. If I don't want to be together with you anymore I'll simply tell you. I'll never cheat on you, I swear.”

“That's good to know,” he murmured. “And I make you the same promise.”

“Good,” she said with a smile. He shifted hold of her to pull her against him before he kissed her softly. She kissed him back, enjoying the moment. For right now nothing was wrong. She had no worries in her head and all was right in her world. She knew it wouldn't last, but for this moment everything was perfect.

He pulled away after a few minutes, running a hand up and down her back. “We should stop now. I know I said we could share a bed and nothing would happen, but I think if I continue to kiss you I'll probably try and take it further and I'm not sure that's what you want.”

“We probably shouldn't,” she said quietly. She didn't make a move to put distance between them, though. “But...if you really want to, I don't think I'd say no.”

“I'd rather wait until you know you won't say no,” he said quietly. “When we are finally intimate I want it to be something both of us want, not something one of us does because they think the other wants it even if they're not sure.”

“Do you want to, though?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. But I can keep myself in check so that we can continue to share a bed if you don't want to sleep alone.”

She grinned at him. “I think I love you even more because of that,” she said.

“Well, I don't want us to rush anything,” he said with a grin. He finally let go of her and rolled over before sitting up and putting his feet on the floor. She rolled over as well and got off the bed. “There's a lot we need to do. We need to go survey the damage, and I'd like to make sure both you and John at least have the essentials while you're here.”

“What about rehearsals?” Molly asked with a frown as she got off the bed and moved over to him.

“Suspended until further notice. I'm sure by now everyone knows about the attack and they're concerned about you and the future of the play and all of it, but right now I think you and John should take some time to get everything sorted out and Lestrade agreed. Lestrade is paying everyone their wages while we wait, which is very generous of him. So if and when the two of you are ready to go back to work then that's what we'll do.”

“How much did you need to talk him into that?” she asked, tilting her head.

“It was all his suggestion. He truly likes you, and he likes what you've done to change my personality. I think he feels he hasn't protected you enough and at least this way he can begin to make it up to you.” She moved in front of him and he reached over for her hand. “I should have done a better job making sure it didn't get to this point as well,” he said quietly.

“No one could have known the lengths Jim would go to to make sure Irene got my part,” she said. “And to be honest I'm wondering what might happen if Irene tells him she no longer wants the part, if that might be the case. I wonder if he wouldn't keep trying to get it for her.”

“We could always ask him and find out,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Don't you dare, Sherlock! If he'll hurt me like this simply so Irene can get the part there's no telling what he would do to you if he thought you'd be an actual threat. Promise me you won't approach him.”

He looked at her and then nodded. “I promise.”

“Good.” She tightened her hold on his hand. “We should see if John is up and start making plans. And I'd like to get something to eat as well.”

“I can make us breakfast even if John's not up,” he said, standing up without letting go of her hand. “And then you can go wake him up when it's done.”

“All right.” She led the way out of his bedroom, and they made their way to the stairs. She could smell coffee so she knew John was already up, and that was confirmed when she and Sherlock got to the bottom of the stairs. John was sitting on the sofa with a section of newspaper in his hand. The other sections were on the sofa next to him. “Hello,” she said when they approached.

John looked over at them and grinned. “I see you two made up. That's good.”

Sherlock nodded. “I am very happy we were able to talk things out last night. It was a very enlightening conversation.” He glanced over at Molly and she laughed softly before giving him a grin, and he gave her one in return.

John chuckled at that. “I get the feeling more came out of that conversation than just the two of you working out your differences,” he said.

“Well, there was something we were kind of keeping from each other,” she said. “We admitted it last night.”

“Really? Congratulations. Finally glad you admitted what most of us knew from at least two weeks ago.”

Sherlock turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You couldn't have possibly known that.”

“With you two I expect it happened a lot earlier. Probably within a week or so of the two of you officially dating. The two of you had just been so hurt before that it took you more time to realize it than it did everyone else. And if you're wondering, that's why no one was surprised when Irene blabbed about the two of you dating yesterday. We could all see you two were quite serious about each other.”

“So we didn't do a good job of hiding it?” Molly asked.

“Nope. But it's okay since it doesn't need to be a secret anymore. And I get the feeling the two of you are going to be quite happy for a long time now.” He set down the section of newspaper he had been reading and picked up a different one before standing and bringing it over to them. “The whole thing got a rather big mention in the Arts section,” he said as he handed it to Sherlock.

Sherlock moved the paper so Molly could read it as well. Then he sighed. “That was not something I had hoped for but I should have expected it,” he said.

“Well, I still want to do the play,” Molly said quietly. Sherlock looked at her, tightening his hold on her hand. “I love this part very much. But it's going to push production back for a bit. I have a broken wrist and that takes time to heal. Since this is set in the 1950s I don't think I can have the wrist brace on while we're performing the play.”

“Are you sure you want to stay in the part?” Sherlock asked her. 

She nodded. “I do. I have friends in the production who need this play to go forward and I don't want you not to play the part you're in because you're brilliant in it. And it's not just because of others. I'm not going to let Irene or Jim scare me off. I'm not going to live my life in fear of what either of them can do to me. I refuse to do that.”

John looked over at the two of them. “With rehearsals on hold for the time being it gives the police a chance to see if they can finally nail him over this,” he said. “If someone can force him to admit what he's done then maybe he won't be a menace anymore.”

“I already promised Molly I wouldn't force a confrontation with him,” Sherlock said. “I intend to keep that promise.”

“And don't you dare do it either, John. I don't want him coming after either of you,” Molly said adamantly.

“I won't. Doesn't mean I can't do research, though,” he said.

“Are you going to get hurt over it?” Molly asked worriedly.

“No. I have contacts who won't say anything about me digging around for information on him. I should probably start on that sooner rather than later, though.” He nodded towards the kitchen. “There's coffee in there. I made it about thirty minutes ago so it's not hot, but it'll do.”

“Aren't you going to join us?” Sherlock asked.

John shook his head. “A few of my contacts need to be contacted in discreet ways. I should probably start doing that now so I can talk to them tomorrow.” He gave them both a grin. “Right now I'm really glad I take my laptop with me everywhere I go. One less thing to replace.” Then he groaned as Molly frowned. “I'm sorry. I was being insensitive.”

“It's all right, John. I'll probably have to replace mine,” Molly said with a sigh.

“Well, I can rejoin the both of you to go back home and look over the damage later, if you want. That way you don't have to do it alone,” he said. “The sooner we do that the better though, I think.”

Sherlock nodded. “I think that's best as well. The offer to replace your clothing still stands, John.”

“I'll take you up on it later this afternoon,” he said with a nod. “After I see if there's anything left at home.” He leaned over and kissed Molly's cheek. “Everything will be okay,” he said when he pulled away.

“I hope so,” she said quietly. “See you later, John.”

“Bye,” he said, moving away from them and heading towards the door. He let himself out, leaving the two of them alone.

“I never even asked if Mrs. Hudson's part of the flat was ransacked,” Molly said as the two of them moved towards the kitchen.

“No, thankfully. They'd started upstairs with John's room and then moved on to yours downstairs. If they hadn't been caught they probably would have made it to her section of your home eventually.”

“That's good, at least,” she said with a nod as she watched him pull down two mugs. “Is she staying there?”

“Not at the moment. She's at a hotel right now. She'll probably go home before either you or John.” He took the mugs to the coffeemaker. “John said he isn't sure when he'll return.”

“I'm not sure when I will, either. If I ever go back,” she said quietly.

“You are more than welcome to stay here as long as you like,” he said, glancing at her. “I know it feels a bit fast to offer that, but I think if you stayed here it would allow you to save up and restore your possessions again faster. And you don't have to share my room, if you don't want to. You're more than welcome to take the guest room for yourself, so you have space.”

“I'll think about it,” she said as she gave him a small smile. “It might be a little fast, but I also know it's a practical arrangement.”

“That's the main reason I offered. But I also like the idea of you being here on a more permanent basis,” he said quietly. “Which probably sounds much too forward of me.”

She came over to him and kissed his cheek. “If we had gotten to the point where we were considering it a few months down the line I would have suggested moving in here. I do like this place quite a bit. As it stands, I feel safe here, and I doubt I would feel as safe anywhere else.”

“I can probably help you feel safer by having alarms installed,” he said. “I don't think my other tenants would mind, either. Not that they're going to be here much longer. Matthew told me they'd gotten a bigger home and were going to move out by the end of the month.”

“That's good for them,” she said with a nod as he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “Where is your cream and sugar?”

“I'll go get them,” he said as he started to pour his own cup. When he was finished he went to a cabinet and pulled out a small container. Then he went to his refrigerator and pulled out the cream, setting it next to the sugar. “There you go.”

“Thank you. I usually take my coffee with flavored creamer, but this will do in a pinch.”

“We can pick up a few things for you and John today, food you might want,” he said. “If you're going to be here for a while I want to make sure you've got things you actually like to eat here.”

“I'd appreciate it,” she said with a smile before moving over to fix her coffee. “And I do want to thank you for offering to replace my wardrobe. I'm fairly sure when I get back home I'll find everything ripped to shreds. I doubt if I have anything left.”

“Well, my tenants downstairs are the same size as you and John, and after you went to bed the first time I spoke to them. Jessica sent up a change of clothes for you to use today, and she said not to worry about giving it back. It's yours to keep.”

“That's very kind of her,” she said as her smile widened.

“It's a dress, because she wasn't sure if you had the same trousers size. And while I didn't know if the two of you had the same shoe size she sent up a pair of ballet flats to go with it. She hopes it all fits.”

“Where are they?” she asked.

“In my closet. I can get them for you, if you'd like to take a shower and change.”

She nodded. “I would appreciate that. Though if I had more time I'd love to soak in the tub. It might make it easier to keep my wrist dry.”

“We don't have to rush this morning,” he said. “As soon as we finish our coffee I'll show you where everything is and get you the clothes. I suppose we should wait for John to finish his business before we go to your home, though. If you don't mind going shopping twice we can get you your clothes first.”

“That would be very nice.” She finished fixing her coffee and took a sip. “You're being very kind about all of this, to both of us.”

“Well, he's my friend and you're my girlfriend. If I left you to deal with all of this on your own that would make me look bad and I'd be a rotten person for doing it.” He gave her a grin. “And I'm not the only person who feels that way. When Henry found out what happened he insisted on helping out as well. So I think this time you won't need to wait months to replace everything.”

Her eyes widened. “He just spent all that money financing my bid on you at the auction! He doesn't need to do anything more, really.”

“He's your friend. But if you insist I'm sure he'll be more than willing to help John replace his things while I help you.”

“I think that might be best. I promise I won't spend a lot of your money today.”

“It's all right, Molly. I want you to buy as much clothing as you think you'll need for, say, a month. More than that, if you want. And I'll see about buying you a laptop so that when you're here you're not absolutely bored out of your mind.” She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand. “I want to help. Please let me help.”

“All right,” she said after a moment. “But I'll be frugal.”

“Was the dress you wore to the auction at your home?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I didn't own it. Sally got it on loan from a designer friend of hers for the event. That's why I was telling everyone who asked who designed my dress. The deal was if the fashion photographers knew who designed my dress I could wear it without buying it first. I'd love to own one or two from that designer, though. It really was a stunning dress.”

“That might be an investment I'd like to make,” he said thoughtfully. “Since we can be open about the fact we're dating now I'd like to take you out on nice dates. It wouldn't hurt to have a few dresses for those.”

“They're expensive,” she said, her eyes wide. “The dress I wore to the auction was ten thousand pounds at least.”

“I'll see if I can work out an arrangement of some sort with the designer,” he said. He took a sip of his own coffee. “Let's finish this so you can go take that bath and then we can go start replacing things. I think it will be at least a little while until John is able to join us.”

“All right,” she said with a nod as she turned back to her coffee. She was very lucky to know the people she knew, she thought to herself. This time she had more kind and caring people than before to get her through this, and she was incredibly grateful for that.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been very hard going home, harder than she would have expected. The last time something like this had happened at least the mementos that meant the most to her had been spared. This time she hadn't been so lucky. She was thankful they hadn't pulled the boxes out from under her bed and ripped up all the photographs and letters she had stored there, but everything else had been utterly destroyed. She'd held in the tears as long as she could as she gathered what had remained but soon she just couldn't do it. Sherlock held her close and John rubbed her back as she cried on Sherlock's chest for a solid ten minutes. When she was done she quickly got everything gathered and hurried out of her home. She knew without a doubt she would never be living there again. It would simply hurt too much. They arrived at Sherlock's building a short time later, but she was so dejected she scarcely noticed until Sherlock nudged her head up from his shoulder. “You have company,” he said quietly.

She lifted her head up and she saw Sally standing outside his home, looking nervous, with Henry nearby. The cab pulled up to the curb and Sherlock got out first. As soon as Molly was out Sally came straight over to her and enveloped her in a hug. “I am so so sorry, Molly,” she said soothingly.

“It's all right,” she said as she hugged her friend back, resting her chin on Sally's shoulder. Henry came over and put his hand on her back in a sign of comfort. She pulled away from Sally and gave her a smile before turning to Henry. “Thank you for coming. Both of you.”

“We wanted to make sure you were okay before we spent the next few hours together,” Sally said. “I finally revealed I bought him at the auction and since there aren't rehearsals right now he suggested we have our date today.”

“That's good!” Molly said, genuinely happy for her friends. “You two don't need to worry. I'm going to be fine. You go enjoy yourselves.”

“We don't mind putting it off for a bit,” Henry said. “Or waiting until tomorrow even.”

“You really don't have to,” she said, turning her attention to Sherlock and John pulling the belongings she'd brought with her out of the boot of the cab. “Sherlock and John will be here if I need them. There's no need for the two of you to sit around and watch me mope.”

Sally looked over Molly's head to Henry, who nodded. Then Sally turned back to Molly. “Nonsense. We'll go later.”

“If you insist,” Molly said quietly. If they really wanted to watch her be miserable and try and take her mind off of it she probably wouldn't be able to stop them anyway. “I suppose we can go help them bring everything upstairs.”

“Of course,” Henry said, moving away from them and going over to the stack of boxes as Sherlock closed the lid to the cab's boot. He moved around to pay the driver, and after a moment Sally and Molly drifted over to help. Molly bent down to pick up a box but she couldn't hold it well with her wrist in the brace. Henry caught her eye. “I can carry two. Let me just shift my hold on this one.”

“All right,” she said as he adjusted his hold. He squatted down slightly and she awkwardly put the box she had been holding on top, and then he straightened up.

Sherlock reached into his pocket for his keys and then handed them to Molly. “I'll carry in the rest. Go ahead and let everyone else in.” She nodded and then made her way to the door to the building. It took her a moment to figure out which key was which, but she got the door unlocked and held it open as everyone filed in. Then she led the way up the stairs to Sherlock's part of the building and unlocked that door with the other key. “These need to go to the guest bedroom on the left,” he said to everyone standing behind him.

“Lead the way,” Sally said from behind him.

Molly went up the stairs first and then opened the door for them, moving out of the way so everyone could file in. They set all the boxes on the bed. The boxes were very small, and it hurt to see how little she was able to salvage. When everyone left the room she lingered at the doorway for a moment. She heard everyone leave, or at least she thought it was everyone. Sherlock came over by her side and put an arm around her waist. “You don't need to sort it out now,” he said quietly

“I was just looking at how little there actually is. Some of these boxes are just shoeboxes. And even though you're being very kind to replace the necessities there is still so much I lost that I can never replace. I don't think I felt nearly as bad the last time.”

He leaned over slightly and pressed a kiss in her hair. “If you want to go through it later with some company I'll help.”

“I think I would like that. Thank you, Sherlock.” She moved away from him to shut the door and then reached over for his hand before heading down the stairs. When they got to the bottom everyone else was sitting in the chairs and sofa in Sherlock's sitting room. “Really, all of you don't need to stay. I'm probably just going to curl up in a chair and mope or something. You all would be much better off going out and having fun.”

“To be honest, I'm not really in the mood for fun,” John said with a shrug. “Though I do need to get clothes later. There wasn't anything salvageable in my room.”

“That bad?” Sally asked, her eyes wide.

“The police think they started upstairs, and even when they realized my room wasn't Molly's they figured they should destroy everything anyway,” John said with a shrug. “We caught them in the act in Molly's room so that's why not everything of hers was destroyed.”

“So what are you two going to do about living arrangements?” Henry asked. “I mean, are either of you going back home?”

John looked over at Sherlock, who nodded. “As soon as the tenants downstairs move out I'm moving in there,” John said. “I'm grateful Mrs. Hudson let me move in, but for the same amount of rent I'll get an entire apartment to myself. It's a better decision to move there than it is to go back.”

“And I'll stay here for a while, I suppose,” Molly said. “It wasn't exactly how I had hoped it might happen, but at least here I feel safer.”

“And I'm going to make sure this place is safer,” Sherlock said with a nod. “I started making calls this morning to have the locks on both living areas updated and have alarms put in.”

“That's good,” Sally said with a nod. “I'll feel better, at any rate. I won't worry about Molly as much.”

Molly made her way to the sofa and sat down. Sherlock sat down on one side and Sally sat down on the other. Henry and John each took the chairs in the sitting room. Molly sighed as she got comfortable, leaning against Sherlock, who put an arm around her shoulders. “I suppose now we just wait,” she said. “See what John's contacts can dig up, see what the police can do, see how long it takes my wrist to heal. There isn't anything else we can do, really.”

“Well, I have a few contacts of my own,” Sally said. “Other agents who have had dealing with Jim. There's some things I found out that might help whoever's getting the information.”

“I'm giving everything I learn to the police, if my sources will let me share their names. I doubt they will, though.”

“My friends will talk to the police if it helps,” Sally said. “Apparently a few of them have had run-ins with the thugs he hires to do his dirty work. Amanda Wilcox's last client who was intimidated by them has a photographic memory, and she was able to describe them to someone who drew them.” She reached over for her purse, which she'd set on the floor in front of her, then pulled out a sheet of paper. She handed it to Molly, who looked at it. John came over and looked over her shoulder. “I know you said they had masks on, but this isn't just their faces. It's all of how they looked. Does it help?”

“The tall bulky one is spot on,” Molly said, her eyes widening. Then she pulled the paper closer before pointing at the detailed drawing of a hand and ring. “And he definitely had that ring on. That's what cut my face.”

“Then we should take that to the police,” John said. He looked over at Sally. “Can we?”

She nodded. “Those are copies. If they two of you know how they sound you can probably identify them as well.”

“Trust me, I'm not going to forget what they had to say any time soon,” Molly said, shuddering involuntarily. Sherlock tightened his grip on her shoulders slightly and she glanced at him, giving him a grateful smile. Then she turned that smile to Sally. “Thank you so much, Sally.”

“It's the least I can do to help my best friend,” she said with a smile of her own.

“I think what we could use is a distraction,” John said. “Something to get our minds off of things. Do you feel like watching a film, Molly?”

“Maybe,” she said with a slight nod. “Just nothing with violence. Something funny, I think.”

“Were any of your DVDs salvageable?” Henry asked.

“A few. I had some of them under my bed.” She pulled away from Sherlock and made her way up to the guest bedroom. She awkwardly picked up the box holding her films and took it downstairs. It had been the largest box she'd brought back with her. “I don't even remember what's in here, to be honest. All my favorites were in the sitting room.”

John took the box from her and then opened it up. He rummaged around and then pulled out a case. “Ghostbusters, maybe?”

“I could go for that,” Molly said. “Did I have both of them?”

“Yeah,” John said.

“That sounds like an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon,” Henry said.

“Then let's put them in and settle in to watch,” Sherlock said, getting up and taking the case from John. He took it to his DVD player and put in the first disc, and then everyone went back to their seats and got settled. They watched the first movie, and towards the end Sherlock called for Chinese for all of them. It arrived near the beginning of the second movie and they all ate out of the cartons as they watched it. Finally when the second movie was done Henry suggested they go shopping for John's clothes. Molly had declined, and Sherlock decided to stay with her. Soon the others left and he looked at her. “Do you feel even remotely better?” he asked, running a hand up and down her bare arm.

“A bit, yeah,” she said with a nod. “I'm glad they were here but at the same time I wish I'd been alone.”

“I can leave you alone, if you want,” he replied.

“No, I'd like your company,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I like having you here. It makes me feel better.”

“All right.” She set her head back down on his shoulder. “It is nice to have time alone, though, isn't it?”

“Yes, very much. I imagine it will be hard to come by until John moves downstairs.”

“I don't know. He's perceptive enough to know when three might be a crowd,” Sherlock said with a slight chuckle.

“I hope so.” She lifted her head back up and looked at him. “I think tonight I'd like to sleep next to you again. That was very nice.”

“It was,” he said with a nod. “And I'll admit, I was hoping you would say that. I got a better night's sleep last night than I had in a long time.”

“I did too.” She leaned in a bit. “Can I kiss you now that we're alone?”

“I wouldn't mind if you did,” he said with a nod, giving her a grin.

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, keeping the kiss light at first but deepening it after a few moments. There was something about kissing him that made her feel better in general, but right now especially. Finally she pulled away. “Let's watch another film, all right?”

“All right,” he said with a nod. “Are we still going for comedies?”

“Yes.” He pulled away from her and went to her box of movies, and she watched. This was nice. This was how she had hoped things could be, even if she had really hoped it would be under better circumstances. She was just lucky she had him there right now, because she got the feeling she was going to need to draw from his strength to get through all of this. She just hoped he had enough for the both of them.


	13. Chapter 13

The next week went by smoothly enough. Molly and John situated themselves in Sherlock's home, and thanks to Sherlock and Henry's kindness Molly had enough clothing to last her quite some time as well as things to occupy her while she was there. It wasn't the same as having the things she had worked hard to get but it was a start. She had gotten quite a few books and had taken to doing a lot of reading because that was something she could do that gave her some privacy and space. It wasn't bad sharing a home with John and Sherlock, even if she knew it was only temporary, but there were times she just wanted quiet, and thankfully both men were willing to give it to her.

She was alone at the moment, and that was fine by her. John was off trying to gather more information about Moriarty and Sherlock was taking care of some business he had been putting off. One of the things that she hadn't had to replace was her iPod, and at the moment it was sitting in a charging dock with speakers and she was listening to her music while reading a book. Suddenly she heard the intercom buzz, signaling someone was downstairs. She debated for a moment whether she wanted to go answer it, but finally she got up off the sofa and made her way to the door. Sherlock had gotten a video system installed so she could see who was outside without having to go down there and open the door. She was quite surprised to see Irene standing there. She pressed the button to speak to her. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I want to talk,” Irene replied.

“I don't think that's a very good idea. You should leave.”

“I had no clue he was going to do anything,” Irene said. “I got angry about you and Sherlock and being outbid and all of that, yes, but all I told Jim was I wanted the part even more. He said he'd take care of it. I didn't think he would actually have you hurt.”

Molly suddenly got angry. “What did you really expect to happen, Irene? That Jim would come pay me a visit and we'd chat and he'd convince me to hand the part over to you? I blame you for the entire mess. If you weren't so hell-bent on getting this part then my life wouldn't have been completely upended. I lost so much I can't replace, and for the second time he's robbed me of almost everything I own, only this time now I don't feel safe on top of it.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I am. I may have slept for some of the parts I've gotten as opposed to actually working for them, and I might not have been above doing petty and spiteful things to people who crossed me, but I don't enjoy seeing people hurt the way you were. I do have some decency left, despite what Sherlock and John think.” She paused. “Can we talk inside? I don't think this is a conversation random people walking on the pavement should be privy to.”

Molly sighed. She didn't really want to have this conversation now, or possibly ever, but she wasn't sure what Irene would do if she didn't. “Give me a moment to buzz you in. I'm upstairs.” She pressed the button to unlock the door remotely and then watched as Irene opened it. No one else was behind her and after a moment she turned away from the monitor and went to the door. A few minutes later she heard footsteps approach and she opened the door. Irene came up the hallway. “I don't want to talk to you very long,” she said.

Irene nodded. “I understand.” Molly moved out of the way and she stepped inside.

“I'd offer tea but I'm not really in the mood for it,” she said. “Coffee I do have, though.”

“I'll take a cup of coffee,” Irene replied.

Molly went over to the coffeemaker Sherlock had. She'd just made the pot a half hour earlier so it was warm but not piping hot. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Cream and sugar,” she said.

Molly began to get everything together and put it all on the counter for Irene to prepare it herself. She poured a second cup for herself and got out the bottle of flavored creamer Sherlock had bought for her. After a moment the two women stood in the kitchen, looking at each other. “So why did you want to come chat?” Molly asked.

“The threats I made at the auction,” Irene said after taking a sip of her coffee. “I'd only wanted to ruin your career. I wanted to make you regret ever having decided to become an actress, and I wanted you to leave acting behind and do something less fulfilling for the rest of your life. I thought Jim might try and intimidate you in a different way. But I didn't want someone to ransack your home and destroy your belongings and actually _hurt_ you. That took it all a bit too far.”

“Well, that's not how he works these days,” Molly said. “Apparently he thinks violence solves every problem.”

“I told him today that I've thought it over and I don't want the part. I don't even really want to stay in the production, to be honest, especially with the delay. He told me that that wasn't an option, and that he'd get me the part and I'd play it and that would be that. I was honestly frightened by the time I was done talking to him. I may be a spiteful bitch and a horrible person but if anything worse happened to you I honestly don't think I could live with myself, because you're right. It is my fault that all of this happened.”

“If anything worse happens to me you should have to live with it, though. And I don't think I'm ever going to forgive you for all of this,” Molly said before taking a sip of her own coffee. “But I do appreciate being made aware of the fact he might be planning something.”

“Well, now I'm starting to worry about what he might try and do to me if I try and make someone else my agent,” she said. “I'm thankful my relationship with him has stayed on a professional level and nothing more because he honest to God scared me today. He's obsessed with me getting this part.” She had some more of her drink. “Obsessed people do scary things.”

“Yes, they do,” Molly said quietly. “I'm left with the feeling things are going to get worse before they get better. If they get better at all, at any rate.”

“I'm willing to help you get him locked up,” Irene said, and Molly looked at her with some surprise. “I'm not sure if he's obsessed with me having the part or simply obsessed with me. Either way, I want to be as far out of his orbit as I can, and I don't think that will happen unless he's locked up or dead. I can't do it directly, though. He'll retaliate, I know he will.”

Molly looked at her for a few moments. “I don't know if I can trust you. I'm not even sure if I _should_ trust you.”

“Is John trying to dig up dirt on him?” Irene asked, and Molly nodded. “Then I'll tell him everything I know, and see if I can do anything else to get him to stop being a threat.”

“I may not like you but I don't want you getting hurt over this,” Molly replied.

“Well, if it matters I'll try very hard not to get hurt. But to be honest none of us are going to be truly clear of the whole situation until he's gone, and that includes me. If I can help I will.”

“All right then. John should be back soon. He and Sherlock don't li--” Molly heard a key in the front door lock. “I suppose one of them is back now.”

Irene nodded, and the two women waited a few seconds until the door opened. They could both see it was Sherlock coming in, and the minute he saw Irene his eyes narrowed towards her. “You of all people aren't welcome here,” he said coldly.

“It's all right, Sherlock,” Molly replied. “She hasn't tried anything and she hasn't made me uncomfortable. Actually, she wants to help.”

He blinked slightly at that as he came into the kitchen. “What?”

“I had a conversation with Jim today that left me scared,” Irene replied. “He wants me for Molly's role even though I don't even really want to be in the play at all anymore. He's obsessed about it. I wanted to warn Molly and see if there was any way I could help stop him from doing anything worse.”

“You don't seem the type,” Sherlock said, crossing his arms. “You never do anything unless there's a substantial gain for you involved. What's in it for you to help?”

“Staying alive, for one. Having a slightly clearer conscience about the whole situation. Not making any other powerful enemies. There's actually a few other reasons but those are the big ones,” she replied. 

“We aren't going after him directly,” Sherlock said. “Right now we're just gathering information to turn over to the police.”

She set her coffee on the counter. “And I'll help with that,” Irene said with a nod. “If he's obsessed about things then to be quite honest we're all in danger. I'll feel safer when he's gone, whether it's because he's locked up or he's dead.”

“I would prefer he not end up dead,” Molly said. “Not because I have any fond feelings for him but rather because I want him to suffer in prison.”

“Well, I second that notion,” Sherlock said. He studied Irene closely, and she took the scrutiny well. Finally he nodded. “All right. John is the one gathering information from people in our profession. You should speak with him about what he might want you to do.”

“I'll do that then,” Irene said. “Do you know where he is?”

“At the moment? No. But I can find out.” He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and stepped away from the two women.

“Do you really want to leave the play?” Molly asked her.

Irene nodded. “It's a good play, brilliantly written. But I'd rather be the lead in a production than second fiddle. Sometimes a lot can come from a good supporting role, but I suppose I'm a diva. I do better when I'm front and center.” She paused. “You're actually more than decent in this role. I think if they can find someone to replace me it will do well with the other people involved.”

Molly accepted the compliment with an inclination of her head. “Thank you.”

“Well, I don't usually give compliments to people who beat me out for roles,” Irene said with a wry smile. “It's a very rare thing.”

“I'll remember that.”

They lapsed into silence until Sherlock came back over. “He's at The Red Lion, near the back. He was just about to leave but he'll wait for you.”

She nodded, shifting her hold on her handbag. “All right. I'll go there now.”

“Don't come back here unless John asks you to,” Sherlock replied. “I meant what I said about you not being welcome here.”

“I understand,” she replied.

“I'll walk you downstairs,” Sherlock said. He nodded towards the door. “After you.” Irene made her way to the door and Sherlock followed. They left his home and then Molly waited about five minutes before Sherlock came back up. “I'm surprised you let her in,” he said when he got back into the kitchen.

“To be quite honest, I am too.” She took Irene's cup and dumped its contents down the drain and set it in the sink, then picked up her own cup. “I thought it was bad enough he was violent. He wants her to have this part by any means necessary.” She paused for a moment as she thought about whether she should voice her fear. In the end she decided it was best if she did. “Sherlock, do you think he would try and kill me to give her this part?”

He was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “If he's obsessed he might,” he said. “But you're safe here.”

“Safer, maybe, but not safe,” she said quietly, looking down at her cup.

“I will keep you safe,” he replied.

“But I'll basically be a prisoner here. I can't live that way,” she said.

He moved closer to her and took her cup from her hands. After a moment she wrapped her arms around him and he embraced her back. “I won't let him harm you. I'll find a way to keep you safe even when you want to leave here. I won't let him do anything more to you, I promise.”

“All right,” she said. She held onto him for a few more minutes, then pulled away and looked up at him. “Did you finish your business today?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I had a meeting with my brother this morning.”

She thought for a moment. “He's in the government, right?”

“He is. I spoke to him about doing what he could do about the threat Moriarty poses. I'll admit there might not be much he can do, but if there are strings that can be pulled talking to him would be the first step. He's going to see what he can do to help the situation. We aren't particularly fond of each other but he realizes you are important to me and if anything happened to you I might not be in control of my responding actions, and he doesn't want the family's name tarnished by a scandal.”

“So really, he isn't doing anything to help you out of sentiment but rather to keep your family's name from being dragged through the mud if you do something foolish,” she said slowly.

“Essentially. But it will have the desired result if there is in fact something he can do. I'm hoping he can have some rules bent about surveillance on Moriarty and other things that will help the police finally stop him from continuing to do what he's been doing, and have it all be done legally so when he is finally brought to justice it sticks.”

Molly sighed. “I suppose we still need to wait and see, and I'll be stuck here in the meantime.”

“We can attempt to leave,” he said.

“But you'd feel better if I stayed here,” she countered.

“Admittedly? Yes, I would. But I know you'll develop cabin fever and you'll resent being here, and I don't want that. If you're going to be here then I want you to not hate being here, because that way you might be inclined to stay when this is all over.”

“Well, considering I won't ever be going back to Mrs. Hudson's home and I don't really want to go through the hassle of finding another flat you might get your wish,” she said, giving him a sad smile. “I just wish it had been under different circumstances.”

“I do too,” he replied, letting her go. “What were you doing before you were interrupted?”

“Reading a book and listening to music,” she said. “I was going to make a light lunch soon. I was thinking a salad with some of the chicken that was left over from last night.”

“Well, I had a quick bite on the way back so I don't need to be fed,” he said. “I'll keep you company as you make it, if you want.”

“I'd like that. But later. I'm not hungry right now. I'm not entirely sure what my appetite is going to be like today. When I get nervous I either don't tend to eat or I load up on chocolate and other fattening foods. I'm thinking it might be the former right now.”

“Promise me you'll take care of yourself,” he said. “Or at least let me help.”

“All right,” she said with a nod.

“Do you want to go back to reading your book?” he asked.

“No, it's all right. I thought it might be nice to curl up with you and watch a film since you're here,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I don't think I could concentrate on a book right now anyway.”

“I can do that. Is there anything in particular you want to see?”

She shook her head. “No, I'm up for anything just as long as it's funny.”

“We'll see what I have then,” he replied. He made his way to where he kept his DVDs and she followed before sitting on the couch. This had been an unexpected turn of events, and she hoped that things didn't get much worse from here on out. She just wasn't sure if they'd get better any time soon.


End file.
